Your Worth in Saint-Seducing Gold
by fyerigurl
Summary: Romeo and Juliet just got a whole lot sexier. For coffeelatte. Oshitari x OC, side-story to It's All Greek.
1. Act I, Scene I

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Prince of Tennis or Shakespeare. If I did, I would make Atobe less of a jerk and Romeo less of a wuss.

OK OK. So, if you have not read coffeelatte's It's All Greek, go read it NOW. This is a companion fic, which means it will take place in the same universe. It will focus on the Oshitari OC side story in It's All Greek, and also my fic, To Catch A Falling Star.

(All you have to know before starting to read this fic though, is that my OC and Oshitari were previously engaged.)

Also, I _kn__ow _how cliché a plot this is, but I hope you have enough confidence in my writing skill to give it a chance regardless. Or you can burn me in flames. I don't really care.

**Second Disclaimer: **This fic is rated T and will remain rated T, but if you are scandalized by themes of seduction, do NOT read this fic. There. You have been warned.

**Third Disclaimer: **When my OC is first introduced in my other fic, she is actually _supposed_ to be a play on a Mary-Sue. So if she seems Sue to you, it's because she's supposed to. Read CH27 of TCAFS if you need proof she's not.

The style of this fic is part historical-romance novel, part Romeo and Juliet.

Also, I know this chapter is hard to get through since there's a lot of information, but bear with me? :D

**-x-**

_She will not stay the siege of loving terms,_

_Nor bide th' encounter of assailing eyes,_

_Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold._

_Oh, she is rich in beauty, only poor_

_That when she dies, with beauty dies her store._

**-x-**

Shigohara Minako did not believe in love.

Such a belief – or disbelief, for that matter – was not so uncommon in her world, she supposed. Minako attended Hyotei Gakuen, _the_ most elite school in the Tokyo region (and quite possibly, the rest of Japan.) Hyotei's prestigious school programs and wealthy student population were sustained by even wealthier families. In a world run by the _crème de la crème_ of the upper class, people found that one's happiness was closely linked, if not _directly equated, _to their social rank and financial prosperity. Thus, people interacted with one another not solely for the pleasure of their company, but more so for the sake of furthering their own connections to a higher rung in the socio-economic ladder.

Love was, ironically, a luxury that they could not afford.

Though, Minako thought to herself, maybe such a bleak outlook on romance was rather cynical for a high school student to have. Perhaps she ought to be more like the majority of her female peers – naïve, light-hearted, and wildly smitten with a certain gray-haired member of the tennis team.

('_Never_,' she thought in horror, trying to imagine herself swooning over his finger-snaps, screeching "ATOBE-SAMA!" at the top of her lungs. '_Never never never._')

At her age, people who claimed to not believe in love often felt that way because they had loved and lost. Or been consumed, chewed up, and spat out by Love's cruel jaws. Minako was not part of either category.

She'd never had her heart broken. Oh no — on the contrary, she'd been accused of leaving a string of broken hearts all across Hyotei's very spacious campus grounds. And while she'd dallied with the affections of many boys, she'd also lost interest quickly, and never entertained their infatuations for long enough so as to be _truly_ involved with them.

Therefore, among the rumor-mill at Hyotei, Shigohara Minako could be considered a flirt. A bitch, maybe, if one was on the receiving end of one of her cool remarks or supercilious stares. But not quite a maneater or a heartbreaker, and certainly not a slut. In that matter, her reputation was as clean as snow.

Which was, in fact, _extremely_ important, seeing as she was eighteen and of age, making her a possible candidate for a spouse. Having a promiscuous background would certainly make her less desirable in the screening process. Although arranged marriages at her age were rare nowadays, they were also not unheard of. Why, just the other day she'd learned of Hanazono-kun's engagement, and he was a year _younger_ than she was!

Minako's parents had actually started the search for a suitable marriage partner long ago. However they appeared to be holding out for one that was advantageous to the family. Her father, CEO and founder of Shigohara Enterprises, was always looking for ways to expand his technological empire. If the businessman on the other side of a transaction had a son, her father would casually mention Minako's existence in hopes of making a deal in more ways than one. Shigohara Enterprises was not a large as, say, the Atobe Corporation – but the name carried enough prestige to garner respect among the upper crust.

So Minako had grown up accustomed to the idea that she was a pawn in her father's corporate chessboard, a bargaining chip to tip the scales in their favor on a business contract. Such a marriage meant that she would want for nothing in the future, and spend her days as a lady of leisure, gracing the social circles of high society with her presence. And that sort of future suited her just fine.

No, Minako thought with a little shake of her head, she did not believe in love.

**-x-**

"Shigohara-senpai!" Choutarou approached her at her locker, dropping a quick bow. (She always rather liked him; he was always so polite and humble, unlike many of his team members.) "Sorry to disturb you, but Ishima-sensei would like to see you in her office."

"To which I would be happy to escort you," a deep voice said from behind her, and Minako turned to find herself looking at the smirking countenance of Oshitari Yuushi.

She tossed back a strand of her brown glossy hair. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm perfectly capable of walking there myself."

"Yes, I see that…" Oshitari barely bothered to hide the appreciative glance he gave her legs. "But Ishima-sensei asked to see me too, so it appears you are stuck with me. Shall we?" He offered her his arm, but she ignored it.

It was a long, long walk to the office.

"Excuse me? Sensei?" Minako pushed open the door slightly. "You wanted to see us?"

"Yes. Come in." Ishima-sensei filed some papers away in a drawer before turning to face them, looking as serious as ever. "You two missed class yesterday."

Yesterday had been the tennis registration for the Kantou Regionals tournament, and all captains and vice-captains had been required to attend. Minako was in the process of serving her second and final year as captain of the girls' tennis team at Hyotei. To her knowledge, the boys' team had no vice-captain. Apparently Atobe preferred a sole dictatorship. Being his best friend (and evil advisor), Oshitari was probably the closest thing to a vice-captain they had.

"I'm sorry," Oshitari said, looking mildly bewildered. "Coach Sakaki should have had our absences excused."

"Oh, there's no problem regarding your attendance," Ishima-sensei assured them, consulting a sheet of paper in front of her. "We just assigned partners for our last project in Literature on Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_." She looked up at both of them, adjusting her glasses. "Since you two were both absent, you will be partners."

Oh, _HELL_ no.

"I beg your pardon?" Ishima-sensei said, looking affronted.

Crap. Had she said that out loud?

Minako coughed lightly. "Just clearing my throat, sensei," she said, aware that her smile was becoming strained. Oshitari was hiding a growing smirk, she noticed. That insufferable bastard.

Ishima-sensei looked between them. "There's not a problem, is there?"

"Of course not," Oshitari said pleasantly. "We're looking forward to it. Shigohara-san and I have an illustrious history of working together."

She practically had to choke to cover up her indelicate words. If an "illustrious history" included two feuding companies and a failed marriage engagement, then yes, she supposed that was accurate.

Unfortunately, Ishima-sensei was still a relatively new teacher to Hyotei, or else she would've heard of the Oshitari – Shigohara scandal that occurred a few years ago. Back when Minako was in middle school, Oshitari's father had expressed interest in acquiring some technological advancement companies to manufacture surgical equipment for his hospital. And Shigohara Noboru, being the opportunist he was, immediately offered a subsidiary company of his corporation to be the supplier. Down the line, the pricing didn't quite match up, and Shigohara Noburu decided to add his only daughter to the equation, to help facilitate the business merger. After all, the Oshitaris had a son her age, and who wouldn't want to be engaged to a Shigohara?

Oshitari Yuushi had honored the agreement by courting her in the public eye. He'd brought her flowers and chocolates, held her hand in his, and made sure the paparazzi had seen him gazing adoringly at her face. He'd played the part of her Romeo perfectly.

However, much like Shakespeare's love story, it was not meant to be.

Minako wasn't quite sure on the logistics, but what she did know was that Oshitari Senior ended up acquiring a different company altogether, effectively turning his back on the deal. Somewhere mixed in there was an intellectual property suit, and then a copyright suit, and a bunch of other legalities that she didn't really understand.

All in all, the engagement was called off.

(Which, in her _very _secret opinion, was a little disappointing. Especially since she'd just started warming up to Oshitari Yuushi. Not that she _liked_ him or anything of the sort, but Minako felt that if she was going to marry for business, it would be nice to marry someone she _tolerated_ well enough.)

"We've already done a lot of analysis in class," Ishima-sensei was saying, and Minako turned her attention back to her. "In addition to a presentation, you will be required to submit a ten page essay on one of the major themes in Shakespeare's work."

"Everlasting love," Oshitari supplied. He even added a little wistful sigh at the end of the word.

Ishima-sensei smiled with approval. "I see you have been paying attention in class."

"Actually, I'd much rather examine the role of gender in the play as a central theme," Minako cut in. "When Romeo falls in love—" She used air quotes. "—he struggles with a departure from masculinity."

Ishima-sensei looked taken aback. "Well, I suppose…"

Oshitari wrinkled his nose in disdain. "Oh, Minako-chan, where is the romantic bone in your body?"

"I had to get it surgically removed when I got engaged to you," she quipped under her breath.

He didn't bother to hide his smirk this time. This was always the very nature of their relationship, even after their engagement fell through. Though their family corporations were now bitter competitors, she and Oshitari had remained friends – with flirtatious remarks and witty banter being at the center of that friendship. It was all in good fun, she thought.

Strangely enough, ever since they started the unit on Romeo and Juliet in class, Oshitari had been increasingly persistent in trying to get her to date him again.

She couldn't quite understand _why _Oshitari was so fixated on the idea, especially considering that their families would never allow it. She doubted he was seriously interested in her; it was probably his perverse desire to live out a Shakespearean romance in real life.

Minako had no interest in being part of an experimental fantasy, nor interest in getting on her father's bad side. So as much as his advances amused her, she'd proceeded to reject them (though probably less firmly than she should've.) Much better to feign annoyance at his actions than to _encourage_ such flirtatious behavior. However, she'd always wondered with a twisted sort of curiosity, what would happen if she gave in. Best not to spend too much time in his company, she concluded, lest he persuade with saccharine phrases and charming wit.

"Your project is worth ten percent of your overall grade," Ishima-sensei finally told them. "I trust that you understand the importance of it." She gave them both a speculative look. "You two should expect to spend a lot of time together."

Oh, bloody _wonderful._

"Excuse me?" Ishima-sensei said, peering at her confusedly.

Minako coughed again, constructing an innocent smile on her face. She really needed to stop these unladylike slips of the tongue. "Beg your pardon, sensei. The air seems to be dry today."

Oshitari, of course, looked rather smug. "Fate works in mysterious ways," he murmured, gazing intently at her face.

Fate, Minako decided, was the worst kind of bitch.

**-x-**

"I had no idea you liked Shakespeare, Oshitari-kun."

Oshitari glanced up from the pages of _Romeo and Juliet _to see Suzuki Nanao in front of him. "Ah, Suzuki-san," he greeted. "It's actually for Literature class."

"Oh. You're lucky. We've been assigned to read _Doll House_ for our final Lit unit and—" She grimaced. "It's pretty tough to get through."

"Considering you already have your hands full with _Iliad_?" Oshitari commented lightly. It was a well-known fact that Suzuki Nanao, though stellar in all other subjects, had absolutely no aptitude for Greek. There was a rumor that her butchery of the language had the Greek teacher in tears at one point.

Suzuki had the good grace to blush.

"Moved on from those trashy romance novels of yours, have you?" Atobe swept into the room, giving his friend an imperious glance. "Ore-sama does approve of this new choice. The British are far superior in their stories compared to that Japanese trash you are always reading."

Before Oshitari could respond, Atobe whirled to face the girl. "Nanao. Come. Ore-sama requests your presence in his salon at once."

"What is a _salon_?"

"Commoner, ore-sama shall not even dignify that with a response—"

"Is that like a barber's shop?"

"…" Atobe looked like he was going to faint. "You are _hopeless._ Come with me before you embarrass yourself further."

As he dragged the girl off, Oshitari hid his smirk behind the pages of _Romeo and Juliet._ Suzuki Nanao was currently the fake girlfriend of Atobe Keigo; a ruse to help him delay his own arranged marriage. (A rather clever ruse, if he did say so himself. It had been his idea). Nonetheless, Oshitari could tell the two were growing fond of each other, as he caught the genuineness in Suzuki's smile and how Atobe simply seemed _happier _whenever she was around. The "fake girlfriend" situation was temporary, at best.

Though, a relationship would be temporary too, Oshitari realized. Atobe Senior would have his son end the relationship when the time came. How positively tragic that the two would be torn apart the instant they realize their love for each other.

Such a complicated plot would make for a good romance novel, Oshitari mused. Of course, it would be better if one of them had a life-threatening illness or had been tragically drafted for a war… Or were the children two families that were feuding terribly in the streets of Verona…

He sighed and turned back to _Romeo and Juliet_.

**-x-**

It took Minako longer than she expected to copy all the notes from the classes she missed yesterday. By the time she got to tennis practice, she was already a good twenty minutes late. Not that it mattered. Gamaro was already leading the first-years in forehand drills. Omae, the most promising second-year on the team, had started handling all the paperwork. So regarding the tennis team, Minako had pretty much retired as captain in all ways but name.

"Buchou, you're late," Rie, her vice-captain, noted upon her arrival. Rie had platinum blond hair, but her eyebrows were always penciled-in with black. A raised eyebrow was impossible to miss.

Minako met her gaze steadily. She could never back down from a good power struggle. "And? Are you going to give me laps?"

Rie pressed her lips together, but to Minako's satisfaction, didn't dare. "Just hurry and change."

Minako purposefully did so at a languid pace.

Every time she changed out of her Hyotei school's uniform, Minako couldn't help but be irritated at how _fussy _it was. She unbuttoned her brown blazer, peeled off the sweater vest underneath, then loosened the red tie and unbuttoned the white blouse, and finally, off came the plaid skirt and knee high stockings. It was an exhausting process.

Forget laps, she thought with exasperation. Changing clothes was enough of a warm-up.

She opened her locker to trade her Italian leather Mary-Janes for her tennis shoes… and that's when she saw it. A single red rose, sitting innocently in her locker, with a note in flowing italic script. _To my Juliet…_

'_Are you _kidding_ me?_' She didn't even want to know what he had to do to get this in her locker. If he asked someone to do this, or if someone had seen him come in… well, people would talk. She needed to put an end to this behavior.

Seeing that Rie was currently occupied with some of the sub-regulars, Minako headed over to the boys' courts, where she located him at the water fountain. "Oshitari." She held up the rose and resisted the urge to smack him in the face with it. "What is this?"

"That, my dear Minako, is a rose," he crowed. "Species floribunda, commonly used in the courtship of—"

He was cut off when she shoved a hand into his chest, pushing him around the building where they were just out of view. "I mean, _what_ are you _doing_?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He spread his hands. "I'm wooing you."

She blinked. "Wooing," she repeated neutrally.

"Yes. A rather old pastime of mine—"

"Old as in 1885?" Her brow arched upwards into her side-swept bangs. "Since your vocabulary seems to be stuck in that era."

He only smiled at the bite in her words.

"You can't…" She exhaled reluctantly and pressed the rose into his hands. "You can't keep _doing_ this, Oshitari. What would your family say if they found out?" She gestured at herself. "That you're fooling around with Shigohara Noburu's daughter, even if it's only for your own amusement?"

He twirled the rose in his hand absently. "What's in a name?" he murmured. "That which we call a rose…"

"By any other name would smell as sweet," she finished, more out of habit than anything. She clapped her hands in front of him. "_Focus,_ Oshitari. This is important." _Not_ the time to be reenacting love scenes from Romeo and Juliet.

Apparently he didn't get the memo, as he reached out to touch a lock of her hair, letting it trail lazily through his fingers. "It is a shame to waste such chemistry."

"Chemistry is the kind of thing that makes shit blow up in your face. Haven't you seen Mukahi in chemistry class?"

Oshitari broke off the stem of the rose with a small _crack!_ "You can't deny it, though," he said lowly, reaching to brush her hair behind her ear. "What we have."

Minako almost inhaled sharply as his skin met hers, but managed to quell it. '_Fine, if that's how you want it. Two can play at this game_.' She drew her lips into a secret, secret smile, one that spoke of rabbit holes and Pandoras' boxes. Said coyly, "I'm not denying anything."

Oh, she was treading through a minefield, yes she was, but the warmth of his hand was oddly hypnotic.

He gently tucked the rose above her ear, his fingers caressing down her jawline. "We are kindred spirits, you and I."

"We're too similar, you and I," was her retort, her eyes sliding up to meet his in a catlike gaze. "Even Atobe says it."

"And that's such a bad thing?"

"Only a narcissist would fall in love with someone exactly like him or herself."

"Love?" he drawled, a hand on the wall behind her, moving closer. "Minako-chan, now you are speaking too soon."

(Oh, she was traveling down a dark, dark path, and yet she couldn't stop walking forward.)

Her voice dropped seductively. "Who said I was talking about me?"

His face was mere centimeters from hers now. Minako gave him a look that was uncannily similar to the one she gave Rie moments ago. Challenging him. '_Do it, if you dare._'

Oh, he dared.

His lips slid down and captured hers, his body pressing her against the wall. One hand went to the back of her head, fingers entangled in her brown waves, and the other went to the curve of her back, burning through her tennis uniform.

'_Well,_' she thought to herself, her heart pounding against her will. '_This is… different.'_

He'd kissed her a dozen times when they were still in that arranged marriage, but all of those kisses had been chaste pecks or innocent brushes of the lips; never anything improper, just anything that could be photographed and used as publicity.

Nothing like this. This was something wild and untamed, and new. She'd always wondered what it would feel like… and now she knew. (_Through the looking glass, down the rabbit hole_.) She gave in completely, sinking against his frame.

It felt hot. Fire-hot, in fact, like flames were eating her from the inside out.

Hellfire flames, she thought, as his hand stroked the base of her neck. Funny, if her father found out, he'd rain all of hell's fury down on both of them—

Oh, crap, she suddenly realized –

Someone could see them. Someone could _see_ them – and it didn't matter who she was kissing, this sort of indecency could destroy her reputation regardless. The fact that it was an _Oshitari_ was just the cherry on top of the cake.

"Oshitari…" she breathed, trying to step back. "Oshi—_Yuushi," _she tried, a hand on his collarbone. "Yuushi, _stop._"

He reluctantly pulled back. "See?" he said, his breath erratic. "That wasn't so bad now, was it."

"_Bad_" didn't even _begin_ to cover it.

With a final shove, Minako managed to push him backwards, and ducked under his arm. "I'll see you tomorrow," she tried to say indifferently, with her back to him, so he couldn't see the blush staining her cheeks. She quickly glanced around to make sure that no one had seen, smoothed out her tennis uniform, and ran a hand through her hair. There. She was perfect.

As she walked away without a second glance, her hair swishing back and forth, Oshitari could help but sigh hopelessly. Though he was pleased that he'd mussed her hair enough so that ceased to flow in perfect waves.

And she was still wearing the rose, he noted with contentment.

Ah, well. Good things come to those who wait.

**-x-**

Minako spent the next day avoiding Oshitari Yuushi for very different reasons than before. Actually, many of the reasons were still the same, but the situations had changed dramatically.

That kiss… Fire-hot, it made her feel. Fire-hot. Like lava ran through her veins.

And… it was strange, but she was curious. Wanted to know _more._ Wanted to know what it would feel like. (Oh, this was a dark, dark path she was following.)

But, she reminded herself, if someone had seen them yesterday and, God forbid, word got back to her _father…_

The thought made Minako's stomach churn with nausea.

As it turned out, avoiding him for the whole day was easier than she thought. It was a simple task to excuse herself from the classroom whenever he was nearby, and it just so happened that Atobe had been keeping him preoccupied for some sort of scheme. Something that involved Suzuki-san, for she'd seen the three of them together quite a few times in the past couple days. As the hours wore on, and she hadn't so much as glimpsed his shadow, she allowed herself to relax in her success.

At the end of the day, she headed to the school gates, congratulating herself on a job well done—

Only to find him waiting there, leaning against a shiny black limousine and looking extremely self-satisfied.

He gestured gallantly at the limousine. "Your chariot has arrived."

She crossed her arms, but for some reason, she couldn't help the smile on her lips. "You do realize I have my own ride."

Oshitari waved a dismissive hand. "I took the liberty of sending your driver home early so I could escort you home." He smiled charmingly. "A lady should always have a gentleman take her home, lest something terrible happen on the way."

"Like what?" she asked, too amused to be annoyed. "A crazy blue-haired teenager could abduct me in his limo and bury me in the woods?"

He put a hand over his heart in mock concern. "And how lost you would be without my assistance."

She was trying very hard not to laugh now. "You are _ridiculous_."

"Just get in the limousine, Minako. You're holding up the line."

That was true. Already she could see other limousines and luxury cars piled up behind his. One driver had the audacity to honk at her, and she threw a frigid glare in his direction. Sighing and shaking her head, she climbed in – not that he'd given her much of a choice.

Oshitari, if anything, deserved points for persistency.

"So," she said, having moved to the far end of the plush leather seat. "What do you want?"

He shut the car door and slinked over to her. "I kissed you yesterday."

"And I kissed you back," she replied coolly, inching even farther away. "What's your point?"

"I think…" God, he was close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath. "That you liked it."

She was not going down _that_ road. That road was a dark, dark path that led straight to the hot (_fire-hot_) pits of hell. "Are we supposed to get married the next day now?" she said instead, diverting the subject. She took out her copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ and prodded him in the chest with it, effectively putting a little more distance between them. "That's what happens in here, right?"

He studied his fingernail. "Well, you know… I'm not entirely opposed to the idea."

She threw her copy at him.

He caught it easily. Damn tennis players and their fast reflexes.

"What do you _want_," she said again, except now she was asking about something entirely different.

"You know exactly what I want."

"Our families would never—"

"Oh, Minako-chan, if you have to rely on _that_ as your main argument…" His smile was wicked. "We both know that you don't have leg to stand on."

"I don't know about you…" she argued, "But my father would kill me." (He would kill her and then feed her carcass to the dogs, without batting an eyelash.) She studied him for a second, then shook her head. "No. You aren't nearly handsome enough to be worth the danger of his wrath."

"How's this? Date me for a month," he suggested. "I just need one month to change your mind."

"One month to make me fall in love with you? That's ambitious, considering you _know_ I don't believe in love."

"Maybe 'love' is too ambitious," he agreed. "But I just need a month to prove…" He shrugged. "That I'm worth it. That romance exists."

For a moment, she was silent. Dear god, she couldn't actually be considering this, could she? She was playing with fire, fire-hot fire.

"Come on, Minako-chan," he coaxed. "A little Romeo and Juliet never hurt anyone." At this, she leveled a pointed glance at the book, eyebrows raised in amusement. "Except… well... Never mind," Oshitari backtracked, holding up his hands. "Okay, I admit, that wasn't my finest argument. But really, a little danger can be exciting. Or—" He smirked arrogantly. "Are you worried that you might _actually_ fall for me?"

She almost jumped for the bait, but reeled herself in. "What's in it for you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Only the pleasure of your company."

"Fine," she conceded, though she didn't believe him for an instant, "What's in it for _me_?" Before he opened his mouth to speak, she added, "And just so you know, _your_ company is more pain than pleasure."

"Well… if you _like_ it that way…"

"Oshitari!"

"If I recall, yesterday it was '_Yuushi_'_._"

Now _he_ was being coy. "Those were different circumstances," she ground out.

He slid even closer, his eyes on hers in a smoldering gaze, his fingers linking between hers. "Then perhaps we should recreate those circumstances."

"Oshi—"

"_Yuushi._"

Thankfully at that very moment, the limo pulled up in front of her family estate. "Oshitari," she said firmly, scooting out of the car and out of reach. "Thank you for the ride."

He sighed, planting a feather light kiss on her knuckles, before letting go. "Just think about my proposal, Minako dear."

**-x-**

"You." Atobe strode into his room with all the presence and purpose of a lightning bolt, an accusing finger pointed in his direction.

Oshitari made a show of looking around his empty bedroom. "Ah, I assume you mean me."

Atobe ignored his flippant comment. "Are you dating that wretched Shigohara Minako again?"

Going back to his book, he sighed forlornly. "It is a continuous effort, I suppose."

This information clearly displeased Atobe. "I just have no idea what you see in that… that… _woman._"

"Hmm…" He flipped a page, having had this conversation many times before. "Yes, Minako is a woman. Your perception abilities are quite impressive, Keigo."

"She's going to string you up and play you like a harpsichord—"

"A _harp_, dear Keigo. A harpsichord is a type of piano."

"Jesus." Atobe made a noise of frustration in the back of his throat. "You _know_ what kind of girl she is."

Finally, Oshitari lowered the book to glance at him above the rim of the pages. There was a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. "Yes, I know what kind of girl she is." He paused. Said, with aching slowness and deliberateness, "Do you know what kind of guy _I_ am?"

Atobe stilled. To Atobe, he was really saying, _'Oshitari Yuushi. Tensai. Man of a thousand techniques. Now, what makes you think that I can't handle myself?'_

And Atobe _knew _Oshitari was perfectly capable of handling himself. Oshitari was one of his closest friends, and because of that, Atobe knew him well. Knew his strengths and his flaws. Knew that Oshitari was by no means the perfect prince that the Hyotei girls believed he was. Knew exactly the type of guy Oshitari was.

For starters, he was one hell of a manipulative bastard – after all, it was all _his_ fault that Atobe was currently in this façade of a relationship. His tongue was almost as sharp as his piercing gaze. On the tennis court, he toyed with his opponents in a cruel, sadistic manner, before pounding them mercilessly into the court.

While he seemed a calm and collected individual, underneath the surface was a torrent of ambition and an incredible drive to win. Atobe had never seen Oshitari angry – (at most, annoyed) – but there was no doubt in his mind that Oshitari would be downright _terrifying_ when riled.

Bad traits aside, Atobe also knew that Oshitari could be unbelievably patient. And kind, extremely kind. He may have poor taste in literature, and even more hideously questionable taste in women, but when it came down to it…

Oshitari Yuushi was a good guy.

Which was more than he could say for Shigohara Minako. "She is going to eat you alive," he finally grumbled, knowing it was a lost argument.

"Keigo, you know me," Oshitari said, leaning forward with a hand over his heart. "I am but a fool for love."

"You're just a fool," Atobe corrected, but he let the conversation end there.

**-x-**

Those who thought Minako didn't have a good relationship with her father were terribly wrong.

Wrong because of several reasons. The first being that Minako had a relationship with her father to begin with.

Secondly, a "bad relationship" implied that both parties were unhappy with their relationship. Minako was perfectly satisfied with her interactions with her father (and especially with how few there were.) He gave orders, she followed them, and no one got hurt.

For the most part.

On a rare occasion, like today, her father would ask to see her. He would ask some simple questions, and Minako would answer them: yes, her image was perfectly pristine, and yes, her grades were still top notch. Then he would nod approvingly and send her on her way.

So today's meeting was probably like any other day, Minako assured herself. Her father was just seeking reaffirmation that she was still suitable spousal material. Still usable leverage.

But if her father had somehow heard about the kiss…

Well, then she'd lie and say that Oshitari had taken advantage of her, she decided. Whilst crying desperately. Good thing she'd always been a convincing actress. While she found Oshitari entertaining and was rather fond of him at times, she was definitely not above throwing him under the bus to save her own skin.

So Minako stepped into his large home office, having prepared an eloquent speech on the flawless state of her studies and reputation, or a sobbing soliloquy on her tarnished purity, when his first question caught her completely off guard.

"Was that young Oshitari's limo I saw you getting out of earlier?"

She froze for a moment. It hadn't occurred to her that he would be home to see her return. The words lingered on her tongue as she considered what to say, choosing her words carefully. "Yes…" she said slowly, trying to gage her father's reaction. "Oshitari-kun was kind enough to give me a ride home."

"He likes you, you say?"

She hadn't, so she smiled vaguely. Said, "I've been honored by his attention, yes."

"Hmm. I see…" His expression was unreadable, though he was clearly contemplating the situation, twirling a pen between his fingers.

Her fingers were twisted into little knots behind her back.

"This is good…" her father pondered aloud. "We need to keep the Oshitari family distracted while we're getting ammunition for our lawsuit. You dating their son again would be perfect."

Minako paused, not liking where this was going. "Father, I—"

"This is an cunning plot you've thought up here," he continued to say as if she hadn't spoken. He sounded impressed.

Did he think that _she_ came up with this idea?

"How clever. You must've gotten it from me." He looked at her appraisingly, steely eyes sweeping over her. "Certainly not from that silly mother of yours."

At this, Minako felt a twinge of indignation on behalf of her mother. Shigohara Hana, though a former international model, was certainly _not_ some sort of airhead or simpleton like the stereotype suggested. She was supremely skilled at getting what she wanted; an expert at dealing with wealthy men and even more adept at wrapping them around her finger. It was from her mother that Minako learned: Behind the most powerful men in the world, there were often even more powerful women pulling the strings from the shadows.

She refused to become either one of her parents. "Father," Minako said more firmly. "I'm not going to—"

"What's that?" His words were quiet, but venomous, and she could feel herself visibly flinching. "You're too soft, Minako. A conscience will get you no where in this sort of business."

It's been long ingrained in her mind that Shigoharas should follow their brain and not their heart. Conscience was the voice of the soul, and as far as her father was concerned, the Shigoharas had sold that long ago – offered it on a silver platter to the devil on the dollar bill, in exchange for a ticket into this lavish world.

Conscience was weakness. Emotion was weakness. She bristled. "It's not my conscience."

"Oh? What, then?" His eyes were beady and hard. "Do you actually _care_ about him?"

If indulging in Oshitari's affections was like playing with fire, then skirting around her father's disapproval was like toying with a motherfucking _inferno_. "Of course not," Minako responded automatically, allowing a scathing tone to enter her voice.

"Then, do as I say. Date young Oshitari." He spun the silver fountain pen on his desk lazily. "You know, you could've just said, "Yes, Father", and this conversation would have been over a long time ago."

She looked at him; held his gaze. Swallowed thickly. Weighed her options.

"Yes, Father."

(She was traveling down a dark, dark path, and now her torchlight had just gone out.)

**-x-**

End Chapter One

**A/N:** Yes, I know this plot is rushing at the speed of light, but y'all know that I have a terrible track record with multi-chap fics, so… yeah. I hope to end this story within ten chapters.

Coffeelatte inspired all the scenes in this fic, so review and then go shower her with love. Also, there will be some inconsistencies between this fic and coffeelatte's, but only if you squint.

(CoffeeLatte is so amazing that I almost didn't want to post this fic because let's face it, she's so much of a better writer. She intimidates me.)

This is my first time writing Hyotei exclusively, which is quite a challenge.

Also, in case you haven't read To Catch A Falling Star (and I don't blame you since it is a _monster_), here's a list of where the major Oshitari OC scenes are:

**CH27:** Mini scene near the center of the page.

**CH29:** Large scene near the end of the page

**CH30:** Mixed doubles at the top of the page, large scene near the end of the page

**Review**. Because I have no idea how good or awful this is, and reviews would help me determine if I should bother to continue it.


	2. Act I, Scene II

**A/N: **Shorter chapter, sorry! I'm trying to work on the new TCAFS chapter.

Plus, isn't it nice to have a shorter chapter once in a while? HAHAHAHA.

This chapter is still very wordy. I promise, it'll start getting more interesting in the next!

Dedicated to coffeelatte, who wrote It's All Greek, the story that inspired this all.

**~x~**

_If I profane with my unworthiest hand_

_This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:_

_My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand_

_To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss._

\- Shakespeare, _Romeo and Juliet_

**~x~**

"Okay."

Oshitari blinked, certain he'd heard her wrong. "Come again?"

"I said, okay. We can date." Oshitari's eyes lit up slightly, so she quickly added, "On a few conditions."

He locked his fingers together under his chin. "Name your terms, my lady."

"For one, we're not going to 'go public'," Minako said sternly, narrowing her eyes. "So don't even think about doing a tacky school-wide announcement on the tennis court."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Oshitari said sunnily, while making mental note to return the megaphone he borrowed.

"And this is only going to last a month, you know," she said firmly. "Per _your_ suggestion."

"Oh, Minako dear." He sighed, shaking his head patronizingly. "You aren't going to be able to end this after a month."

She quelled the indignation that flared up within her, like pouring water over flames. "Care to make it a wager, then?" she suggested instead, her voice a low purr.

The light on his glasses shifted ominously. "Interesting. What do you want if you win?"

Her lips curved mischievously. "If I can end this 'relationship' after a month, you have to wear one of my ballerina tutus to your next official tennis match."

"How cruel." He seemed impressed. "I would expect no less from you."

"And if _you _win?" she prompted, feeling just a little apprehensive. "What do you want?"

"Just an evening with you," he murmured, a faint glint in his eye. "With an activity of my choosing."

At this, she gave him a strange, wary look. "Within reason."

His eyes locked onto hers, his gaze intense and smoldering and hot hot _hot._ "Define reason."

His stare practically knocked the air out of her lungs. (Dear god, and that was just the power of his gaze…) She recovered with a little shake of her head. "PG-13."

He sighed again. "Well that limits my options. Fine. I will honor your wishes."

"Is this wise, Oshitari?" Minako couldn't help but ask, crossing her arms, a superior smile on her lips. "You're making a wager with someone who is in complete control of the outcome."

"I suppose," he responded loftily. It was clear what his expression said. _We'll see about that._

Minako smirked. She would enjoy the challenge. After all, she did not relinquish control easily.

"Shall we seal the deal?"

She extended her hand for a solemn handshake.

"What?" Oshitari said, disappointed, his face as innocent as a puppy dog's. "No kiss?"

"Palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss," Minako quoted, taking his hand. She held up _Romeo and Juliet_ tapped him on the cheek with it, winking. "Study up, Oshitari."

**~x~**

Contrary to popular (and Atobe's) belief, Oshitari Yuushi was not in love with Shigohara Minako.

He'd read enough romance novels to have an idea of what true love was like, and he wanted it all; the nauseating, intoxicating, sheer desperation of being unable to _breathe_ without the other person.

He wanted a huge, love-sick love like that, with all the pain and suffering that came with it.

And he did not feel that with Shigohara Minako. At least, not all of it.

His heart did give an odd sort of flutter when she was nearby. And despite appearances, Oshitari was a hot-blooded male just like any other high schooler; he certainly felt a twinge of something undeniably physical upon seeing her.

But no, he was not in love with her.

Rather, Oshitari was in love with the idea of being in love.

He dreamed about a fairy tale romance much like young girls did, much like his sisters did when they was younger. Now, it was more of a bitter, wistful longing, as while his sisters still had a chance to find their happy endings, Oshitari had all but given up on his own.

When it came down to his own future, he had to be a realist.

Oshitari's parents were very caring… but they also happened to be very traditionalist. As the only son in the family, he was held to vastly different standards. His older sister Haruka was a brilliant chemical engineering grad, and younger sister Erina was already making a name for herself in local fencing tournaments… but the Oshitari family eyes were always on Yuushi. He was the son. He was the _heir_.

And because of that, everything was different.

No, Oshitari was not held to the same standards as an _Atobe_ (and for that he was eternally grateful.) But that didn't mean that others' expectations were anything short of sky high. It didn't mean that his life wasn't already painstakingly planned and spelled out in document form.

So when Suzuki asked him why he liked romance novels so much, Oshitari only smiled. Said some made-up nonsense about romance and the human psyche.

In truth, he liked them because they made him wonder. Made him dream about white horses and castles and happily ever afters. Because then, at least for a moment, he could pretend that he would throw it all away – the money, the lifestyle, the responsibilities… for the right girl.

**~x~**

Family dinners, Minako decided, were a stupid idea. Especially when her father was in attendance. Her stomach was in so many knots that she felt like she was going to projectile vomit over his Gucci suit.

She wasn't sure he'd appreciate that sort of unladylike behavior.

"The plan is to keep the Oshitaris' attention occupied," her father was saying. "And as of right now, I'm sure they haven't even _noticed_ that you're dating their son again."

Minako pushed the julienned vegetables around her plate with her fork. "Father, I'm doing the best I can. We don't want Oshitari-kun to be suspicious, now do we?"

His tone was sharp. "You are making a pitiful effort."

"Mother," Minako pleaded, turning to her for support. Her mother was always easier to deal with than her father, though that certainly wasn't saying much. "If you could see me in school… I'm practically _throwing _myself at him."

That was a lie. Minako knew she hadn't been very obvious with her affections towards Oshitari; had held back on any sort of PDA that might draw attention. Instead, she opted for more subtle displays – leaning flirtatiously closer to him, chuckling at his witty remarks, purposefully grazing her hand against his.

Some rumors had begun circulating about the revival of their relationship, but of course, the majority of the gossip was still centered on Atobe and his new girlfriend, Suzuki-san.

Stupid Atobe, always stealing her thunder.

She'd been hoping to get by without involving herself too deeply with Oshitari. Hoping that her father would let her off if she merely flirted with him a little more. Because the minute she started to _truly_ involve herself, to return his touches, reciprocate his kisses, and god forbid, do _more…_ it would cease to be a game.

And if it was no longer a game, then someone would end up getting hurt.

"Minako," her mother said, folding her delicate hands on top of each other. "All your father is saying is that you could've made some sort of… _announcement_ of your relationship."

"Like what?" she shot back, the words out before she could stop them. "Have Principal Musashi put it in the morning announcements? On the P.A system at school? Maybe Father could buy me a billboard advertisement?"

"I will _not _tolerate that tone, young lady," her father boomed, just as her mother said, "Well, it worked for young Atobe, didn't it?"

"Mother, that's because it's _Atobe._" That bastard could go to school in holographic clown pants and a rainbow unicorn horn on his head, and all the magazines would declare it the latest fashion trend. She shuddered. "Please. I have more grace than that."

Her father let his fork clatter on the table. A bad sign. "You realize that Atobe-kun and his girlfriend Suzuki are _all_ the gossip columns are talking about?"

She wanted to shrug and say, "So?" obstinately, but she dared not. So she held her breath. Waited.

"Now tell me..." There it was, that venomous tone. Minako flinched again – she couldn't help it. "Tell me. What is the _point_ of having you date young Oshitari if his family doesn't notice?"

Minako looked to the other side. "Mother," she said quietly. Begged quietly.

Her mother just gave her a dissatisfied look. "Just make something happen, Minako. Your father is unhappy."

When her father was unhappy, he made other people unhappy. That statement alone was a threat enough. Minako gripped her fork. "Fine," she finally said, her voice tight and her smile tighter. "Fine. I'll figure something out."

**~x~**

Oshitari Yuushi was feeling rather frustrated, to say the least.

He and Minako had supposedly been dating for a week, and yet not much had happened. Granted, he'd been occupied with Keigo's dramatics regarding Suzuki-san, but even so… he hadn't even gotten to _kiss_ Minako since they started dating.

And he wanted very much to kiss her again.

The problem was, every time such an opportunity presented itself, Minako would wave it away with about as much warmth as an ice sculpture.

It was just like her to do so, he thought with an exasperated sigh.

To the masses, Minako was the perfect example of an ice queen, the sort that was representative of Hyotei. Oshitari could appreciate that, because their upper-class world was _cold_, frigidly so, and one had to be equally icy to survive.

(It was a miracle that sweet, warm Suzuki Nanao turned out the way she did.)

But he'd seen a different side of Minako. She was not all ice, no. He'd seen her reign in her fiery emotions and sharp tongue on more than one occasion; hide them under her frozen façade.

She'd tasted of fire. And more than anything, he had the urge to douse her in oil and set her aflame.

Figuratively, of course.

(And quite possibly literally, if she kept frustrating him like this.)

"You know," Oshitari mentioned idly as they were finishing tennis practice. "I'm not sure how our relationship now is any different from what it was before."

Minako adjusted the tension on her racket strings. "I am tolerating your existence now. Don't push your luck."

"You tolerated me very well before," he drawled, putting his face extremely close to hers.

She coolly pushed him back with the frame her racket.

"Minako, I don't understand you." His voice still had that teasing lilt, but his eyes had taken on a hard light.

She stilled, and decided to feign innocence. "What ever do you mean?"

His voice was layers of blades and daggers. "This… this hot and cold game you have going on. It's getting rather old."

Oshitari saw something flicker across her face, but it was gone in an instant. She was always good at suppressing in her emotions, he thought to himself. She could compose her face like a Kabuki mask, and Oshitari wanted very much to strip her of it and let it shatter. He took a step forward, smirking. "We are dating, aren't we."

"Yes," she said noncommittally. "Yes, I suppose we are."

"Perhaps we ought to act more like it."

She tilted her head. Smiled darkly. Drew herself close to him in a smooth motion, and murmured, "Well. What did you have in mind?" Before he could answer, she said, "Something like this?" and pressed her lips to his jawline in a light kiss with the wickedest touch of tongue.

But when he leaned in for her lips, she drew back.

Annoyance flashed through his eyes. "Minako."

She smiled, bright like a dagger. "_Yuushi_."

**~x~**

"I don't like her," Shishido declared.

"Me neither."

"Atobe _hates_ her."

"I-I like her."

"Choutarou, you can't be a good judge of character. You like _everyone._"

"Who are we talking about?"

"Shigohara."

"Oh." Mukahi made a face. "Ugh. That girl. I hate her."

"Mukahi, you're just angry that Oshitari can get a hotter girlfriend than you."

"Nah," Taki disagreed, while Mukahi was sputtering insults at Shishido. "He's just angry that Oshitari can find someone prettier than he is to hang out with."

"I'm not- She's not _prettier- _Shut up!"

**~x~**

As much at Mukahi would attempt to deny it, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Shigohara Minako was very attractive.

Obviously, one would expect her to be, considering who her mother was. Like her mother, Minako had long, slender legs, a willowy physique, and deep brown hair that flowed like silk woven with threads of gold. Her face put Roman sculptures to shame; Michelangelo would've spent hours on crafting the classic length of her nose, sharpening the edge of her high cheekbones, polishing the curve of her smile, smoothing out the moonstone-like perfection of her skin. Her muscles were impeccably toned from tennis practice, her waist nicely cinched from ballet.

Yes, Minako was attractive. But so was the majority of the Hyotei student body. (People often speculated that Hyotei weeded out 'unsuitable' students based on the pictures they sent with their application.) Among the well-above-average-looking student population, Minako was still considered pretty, but perhaps not quite as much of a standout. There were plenty of pretty girls at Hyotei.

Which led to the following conversation, when they were watching the girl's team play against Seigaku in the prefectural finals. Women's tennis attracted its fair share of crowds, though perhaps for the wrong reasons.

"I think Matoko has nicer legs that Shigohara," Taki murmured, eyes glazed. "What I would've give to have those wrapped around me…"

"Hey," Shishido warned, eyes flashing. "Don't talk about her like that." Vice-captain Matoko Rie was a childhood friend of Shishido's, one that he was overly protective about.

"Jesus, Ryou," Mukahi said irritably. "If you aren't going to date her, at least give the rest of us a crack at her."

"Narita-senpai is prettier," Hiyoshi said stubbornly.

Atobe scoffed, "Hiyoshi, your preferences are solely based on what's below the neckline." Narita Ayumi, another regular on the girl's team, was the definition of curvaceous. She was built like a bud vase with two oranges balanced on top.

"…Gekokujou."

"How is that even relevant!" Mukahi snapped.

"He just says that when he can't think of anything to say."

"Gekokujou," Hiyoshi muttered again, most likely out of spite.

"Maybe… maybe we should watch the game?" Choutarou suggested worriedly.

"An excellent suggestion." Atobe regally sat down and snapped a finger. "Kabaji. Some shade, if you wouldn't mind."

"Usu." Kabaji pulled out a pink, lacey _parasol_ for him. What was even more ridiculous was that Atobe could actually pull it off.

"Game, Hyotei! Six games all! Tiebreak!"

All of them turned their attention back to the game, which had just gotten interesting. And when Shigohara finally let loose and _played,_ they all felt their jaws drop.

Because when she played, she was stunningly, brilliantly, _undeniably_ beautiful.

Her eyes were alight with the glorious, glorious thrill of the game. Just watching her, they could feel it… the blade-like slice of the racket, the curved shot of the ball, the rush of adrenaline. A soft smile on her lips – one that they could tell was genuine because _they knew what it was like_ \- how you loved the sport like it was a lifeline, how a good game could make your blood race and your heart pound so much that you couldn't _help _but smile.

This was Shigohara Minako, in her element.

On the courts, she was unstoppable. She was magnificent.

It was reminiscent of the way Atobe played, they all thought, though he probably would reel in horror at the association. There was no other way to explain it - she made tennis beautiful.

So, when the match concluded with Shigohara Minako as the victor, Mukahi finally voiced what all of them were thinking:

"Damn that Yuushi. He's one lucky son of a bitch."

**~x~**

"Congratulations to the Hyotei girls' tennis club for being the champions of the prefectural tournament!"

Minako shook hands with the short, pigtailed girl from Seigaku before going up to accept her trophy. Her eyes suddenly caught onto Oshitari, amidst the camera flashes and cheering crowds. He was looking at her contemplatively, and faint smirk on his lips. Even when she broke his gaze to smile for a reporter's camera, she could still feel the weight, the _burn_ of his stare on her.

Disregarding the remaining journalists, she moved through the crowds towards the stands, beckoning him forward with a finger. He stepped to the edge of the elevated stands, looking amused.

As soon as he leaned forward enough across the banister, she stood on her tiptoes and sealed her lips over his.

She could hear the crowds gasp. Hear the clicks of hundreds of cameras.

Well, she thought, might as well go for a dramatic finish. Without breaking the kiss, she let the trophy fall to the ground unceremoniously. Reached up to cup his face with one hand, to clutch the front of his shirt heatedly with the other.

Stunned whispers started to fill the courts. The cameras kept clicking.

After what felt like an eternity (and a thousand camera clicks later), she broke apart from him. Responded to his questioning gaze and the dumbfounded crowds with a self-satisfied smirk. Then she fixed a mechanically-perfect, flawlessly-photogenic smile on her face. "And _that's_ how you make an announcement."

**~x~**

End Chapter Two

**A/N: **Yes yes, there are inconsistencies in terms of TCAFS. I just want this fic to be a standalone one, so bear with me.

In the next chapter, I will tackle how Oshitari's family views Minako. And also, the party scene in IAG's chapter 10.

I'm still hoping to end this story in the first 10 chapters. We shall see if that happens. Review review reviewwwwww!


	3. Act I, Scene III

**A/N: **Dedicated to the lovely coffeelatte, who inspires me and forces me to write.

A picture of Shigohara is linked on my profile, btw.

On with the chapter, my loves!

**~x~**

_But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?_

_It is the east, and Juliet is the sun._

_Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,_

_Who is already sick and pale with grief,_

_That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she._

_Be not her maid since she is envious._

_Her vestal livery is but sick and green,_

_And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!_

_It is my lady. Oh, it is my love._

\- William Shakespeare, _Romeo and Juliet_

**~x~**

_**A Real-Life Romeo and Juliet?!**_

_Heiress to Shigohara Enterprises, Shigohara Minako, was recently seen together with Oshitari Yuushi, the son of Oshitari Eiji._

_A source tells us that the couple remains on and off, despite bad blood between their families. In 2006, Shigohara Enterprises sued Oshitari Eiji for 10 million dollars for a violation of intellectual property rights. In 2008, the Oshitari family retaliated with their own suit for 20 million. Both times, the parties decided to settle out of court._

_So, is the young couple looking to rebel from the pressures of high society? Are they willing to risk their inheritances to continue this relationship? If that is the case, our hearts go out to them. We've always been true romantics at heart._

_The two were previously engaged, before the engagement was called off on account of a failed business merger._

_We're definitely keeping an eye on this tempestuous affair._

_Both families declined to comment._

**~x~**

"Let me get this straight," Minako said, pacing around her room and trying not to shake with pure outrage. "Father wants me to date Oshitari _and seduce Atobe on the side_?!"

Her mother took a sip of her martini apathetically. "It's only a suggestion. It _would_ be helpful to have the Atobe Corporation's support in this upcoming lawsuit."

"Mother, Oshitari-kun and Atobe-kun have been friends for _years_," she tried, deciding not to mention her obvious dislike for Atobe. "There's no way Atobe would jump ship over to us."

Shigohara Hana swirled the liquid in her glass around with a smirk. "Teenage boys don't have that sort of loyalty."

Minako blinked, decided she didn't want to know, and shook her head. "Besides, Mother, Atobe has a _girlfriend_."

"That kind of obstacle never stopped me before," her mother said, crossing one elegant leg over the other.

Minako tried not to let her disgust show on her face. Her mother, as she discovered long ago, had rather fluid views of morality.

"This Suzuki girl isn't even that pretty," her mother continued, flipping through another page of the gossip magazine. "I don't understand how _she_ managed the snare Atobe when you've been trying for years."

"_Mother_—"

"Well, we did want him as a match for you."

"Yes," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm aware."

"The partnership could've taken your father's company to far greater heights."

"I am aware of that as well."

Her mother sighed and said pointedly, "If only someone put in _a little more effort_…"

"Mother." Minako whirled on her. "Are you really going to make this my fault again?"

Let the record show that in middle school, the Shigohara family approached in Atobes in hopes of arranging the marriage of one Shigohara Minako to one Atobe Keigo. Unfortunately, (or perhaps fortunately for Minako), the Atobes' declined, in the hopes of finding an even better match.

The Shigoharas were apparently not good enough.

And Minako did not care. She did not _care._ It was just that… That this Suzuki girl appeared from _nowhere, _and how on earth did she…

Whatever. It didn't matter.

"You can tell Father…" Minako said as calmly as she could. "That I'm not going near Atobe. I am not going to be some sort of _temptress_ pawn—"

"It was only a suggestion, Minako. Don't get so upset." Her mother patted her patronizingly on the side of her face. "You'll get wrinkles. And I don't want to have to pay for any facial surgery before you're at least thirty-one."

**~x~**

"So, is it true? You're seeing Shigohara Noburu's daughter."

Oshitari Senior sat behind a sleek, steel desk. Having practiced as a doctor for many years before going into business, he had a certain appreciation for minimalist décor and uncluttered office space.

He found that the fewer things in the office, the larger and more imposing he looked.

Yuushi nodded once. "Yes Father. It's Shigohara Minako. You had me engaged to her at one point, if you remember."

"I know who she is." His father's tone was flat. He took a sip of his coffee. "What I don't know is what you are planning."

He smiled. "What makes you think that I am planning something?"

His father did not answer that, and did not need to. The Oshitaris always planned ahead. It's what they do; it's how they've succeeded thus far.

It was practically in their Bible. Thou who planeth ahead, stayeth ahead.

He smoothed the paper out in front of him, and Yuushi could see certain tabloid sections circled in blue ink. "You know I can't approve of this match," he said firmly.

"I realize that."

"The bad blood between Shigohara Noburu and myself simply runs too deep."

"But," his father continued before Yuushi had time to speak. "It seems that you have attracted yourself a fair bit of publicity with this girl."

The media loved Shigohara Minako almost as much as they loved a juicy scandal. Not quite to the extent that the paparazzi trailed after Atobe, but after all, Shigohara Minako was irrefutably upper-crust, a bachelorette that was extremely eligible. And of course, she garnered attention based on who her mother was.

"This could help your social standing."

A pause. "Yes," Yuushi agreed, just a little reluctantly. "I guess it could."

"Well. I suppose it wouldn't be bad to reap the benefits of this relationship while you can." His father folded up the paper in neat sections. "I will be keeping an eye on you two. Do not do anything to disappoint me."

"Of course not, Father."

**~x~**

"Oshitari-kun!" Suzuki Nanao ran to meet him outside the classroom. "I just wanted to thank you for helping me with the math homework!"

"You are welcome, Suzuki-san."

"But really – I couldn't have done it without your help, and I feel bad for bothering you, and I really just –"

"Suzuki-san, there's no need to thank me." He smiled, tilting his head charmingly. "Believe me, it was my pleasure."

Suzuki flushed a delicate rosy pink. "Um… well, thank you anyways! I should head to the library. I'll see you later, Oshitari-kun!" She looked over her shoulder to wave at him, and nearly ran into a fellow classmate in the hall.

Oshitari sighed, though affectionately. He truly hoped that she would never change. Many girls could stand to learn something from Suzuki Nanao.

One such girl happened to be standing next to the adjacent door. "She's smitten with you, you know," Minako said, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

He opened his mouth to respond automatically: Of course Suzuki was not smitten with him, she just _thought_ she was, that silly girl, this was all just a phase, Keigo was the one she truly liked and she just needed a nudge in the proper direction. Then, he reconsidered his response. Smirked, and murmured rather smugly, "Jealousy is a lovely color on you, Minako."

"Why, thank you. Denial is an attractive one on you."

**~x~**

Since tennis practice had been cancelled for both teams (as it usually was after a big tournament), Oshitari and Minako decided to work on their Shakespeare project in the library after class.

"Here. You pull quotes from this scene." Minako shoved the open book across the table.

Oshitari accepted it with an amused glance. "You aren't still jealous, are you?"

"Of course not."

"That's exactly what a jealous person would say."

Minako sighed, snapping _Romeo and Juliet _shut. "Isn't Atobe at all worried that his little girlfriend is pining after you?" she asked.

For a moment, Oshitari considered telling her the whole story – the arranged marriage, Keigo's fake relationship, everything. But that would go delving into a lot of Keigo's business, and while Minako was many, many lovely things, "_trustworthy_" was not one of them – not just yet. "I'm sure Keigo has enough adoration for himself," he said smoothly. "He doesn't need hers too."

She rolled her eyes and reopened the book, her eyes quickly skimming the text. She picked up a highlighter to mark down a quote—

"_Minako._"

She looked up with an annoyed huff. "Yes?"

"Takada's having a party this weekend. I thought we could go."

"No thanks. I'm busy."

"But you love a good party."

"I'm busy."

"Well… I guess that's fine, then," he said, stretching out languidly. "I suppose Keigo may require me to keep Suzuki-san company as he goes about gracing others with his magnificent presence."

One perfectly sculpted eyebrow shot up to her hairline.

"It might be better if you don't come, actually."

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent her jaw from dropping at his audacity.

_Well played, Oshitari. Well played._

And then she thought,

_Wrong move, Yuushi. You will pay for that one._

**~x~**

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi _at 4:30 PM

_Our conversation on Thursday left things rather ambiguous. Were you planning on coming to Takada's tonight?_

'_Ambiguous,'_ Minako thought with a roll of her eyes. Who used that in a text?

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi _at 4:33 PM

_Make no mistake, I would love to see you there, despite what I may have said earlier._

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi _at 4:36 PM

_Are you angry with me? I do apologize._

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi _at 4:40 PM

_Are you going to make me beg? I'm not fond of begging, Minako._

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi _at 4:46 PM

_Minako._

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi _at 4:47PM

_Please._

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi _at 4:48 PM

_Pleaaaase._

"Your phone keeps going off, you know," her mother said.

"I know," Minako responded from the other side of the room. She lazily flipped to the next page of _Tess of the D'urbervilles, _settling comfortably into her armchair."Just leave it."

**~x~**

Two hours later, Minako slipped into a dark red dress her mother picked out for her, one that was tight and low-cut and emphasized her flawless figure.

"You look beautiful, Minako," her mother said, reaching to adjust the front of the dress. "Simply beautiful."

'_Beautiful._' What did such a word mean? Was it supposed to convey such an empty, hollow feeling?

All her life she had been beautiful. It was something she never had to lift a finger to achieve, and the reason she would never have to lift a finger in the future.

She'd played tennis, danced ballet, did well in school if only to add another adjective to her name, if only to be known as something else, something _more. _But as far as her parents were concerned, she'd always be beautiful, beautiful Minako.

Beautiful enough to be reaped. Beautiful enough to be used.

_(But not loved, oh, never loved._)

Even when she'd dallied with other boys in the past, their words were always, "_God, you're so beautiful. You're so beautiful."_

Granted, in such compromising situations, complimenting her business acumen or her poetic grace would be rather strange.

And gradually, in her house, in her ears, the word '_beautiful_' grew ugly, became an insult, cruel and condemning.

Because if she was beautiful, then surely she was nothing else. Didn't need to be anything else. Her fate was sealed.

So when she heard her mother say it, again, Minako only smiled. Smiled very softly, and said, "Thank you, Mother. It's because of you that I'm beautiful."

**~x~**

Though Atobe was a fan of arriving fashionably late, they'd entered the Takada guest house a little earlier. Parties like these often got messier as the night wore on, and Atobe had no intention of sticking around for when that happened. He did not do messy.

"Where is that girl," he grumbled. "I can't believe that she's taking so long. _Females_."

Oshitari decided not to mention that Atobe himself often took three times as long, just to get ready for school.

(And even longer, when he had trouble deciding which cell phone matched his outfit.)

"Ah, there she is."

He observed that by being Atobe Keigo's girlfriend, one had _power by association, _as the students parted like the Red Sea just to let Suzuki Nanao through.

Upon seeing Suzuki, Oshitari was both surprised and impressed at how pretty she was. Suzuki was not the type to spend hours polishing her hair and perfecting her makeup. Her day-to-day attractiveness came from her genuine smile and how comfortable she was in her own skin. However tonight, with the sparkle on her lids and the gloss on her lips, she was rather stunning – stunning in a way that he'd never noticed before.

Atobe stepped forward to murmur a well-deserved compliment in her ear, and she practically glowed with delight.

"You_ are_ looking exceptionally lovely today, Suzuki-san," Oshitari commented, and she beamed again, her smile like a ray of sunshine.

The three of them made small talk, occasionally allowing others to stop by temporarily. Atobe said something else into her ear, and Suzuki giggled. They really were a well-suited couple, Oshitari thought.

He quickly sent Minako a text, inquiring about her whereabouts.

Atobe got to his feet. "Well, it appears I should make a round of the room and grace others with my presence. Nanao, stay," he said as Suzuki started to get up as well. He tilted his head towards Oshitari and smirked. "I'll come back later."

The two of them talked for a bit longer, the conversation flowing easily (and the alcohol flowing even easier, so to speak.) When Nanao turned to talk animatedly with a kohai, her cheeks aglow with warmth, Oshitari found himself realizing, (and not for the first time) that Atobe was very lucky to have found someone like her.

It was maybe another half hour before Minako stepped into the room, but when she did, it was like she had an invisible spotlight. She did not need the rose petals or trumpeting music that Atobe was so fond of, no. Her sheer presence was more than enough. Oshitari's mouth went dry, and suddenly in that room full of fellow partygoers, he could see no one else.

She was beautiful. Beautiful in a way that Suzuki Nanao was not, beautiful in a way that would not suit Suzuki at all. Minako wore her beauty like a weapon, and tonight, every inch of it was sharpened and polished to deadly levels. It was dangerous and somewhat hostile, like the silver flash of a dagger's edge, the kind of beautiful that could cut you up and bleed you dry if you got too close, the kind that would be icy to the touch.

It was something Oshitari wanted very much to touch.

He murmured a quick "excuse me" to Suzuki, and made his way to her. "Well," he drawled admiringly. "I expected no less, but you look absolutely beautiful tonight."

Once again, he caught a glimpse of some sort of fleeting emotion in her eyes, before she took his arm, her lips quirking in a perfect mask, a perfect smile. "Thank you. You're looking pretty good yourself."

**~x~**

"Tell me you're not enjoying yourself right now," Oshitari challenged. They had taken a seat at the end of the bar, where they could look upon all the debauchery before them. Most of the students were socializing, drinks in hand, although some had made their way clumsily to the dance floor.

She thought for a minute. "I'm in my most uncomfortable shoes, I'm drinking cheap vodka, I'm watching my peers make absolute fools out of themselves and I may need a restraining order against a certain blue-haired teenager." She smiled wryly. "I'm having a lovely time."

"I could help with one of those," he offered, his eyes trailing down the length of her leg. "Foot rub?"

She made use of her long legs by kicking him in the shin.

"You know," Oshitari said, rubbing his own leg. "If you injure me before Nationals, you'll have to answer to Keigo."

"I bet I could take him."

Oshitari smiled. "Well, I certainly would not bet against you, my lady. Speaking of bets… it's been about two weeks now, hasn't it? Having second thoughts yet?"

_The wager. _Minako had nearly forgotten about it. "Has it only been two weeks?" she said instead, batting her lashes. "It feels like months."

"Our feelings are so powerful that even this fleeting time together…" He took her hand. "Feels like an eternity."

"Or…" she said smartly, tugging her hand away. "Every torturous minute feels like forever. It's rather like when Ishima-sensei drones on about everlasting love in Literature class."

Grinning, he opened his mouth, no doubt to deliver a well-formed retort, but was interrupted.

"Yuushi."

Oshitari looked over his shoulder, only to see a most-displeased Atobe looking back at him.

"Hello, Atobe-kun." Minako gave him one of her most winning smiles. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

He spared her an irritated look. "Yuushi, I need to speak with you. _Now._"

Minako felt just an ounce of irritation herself at his blatant discourtesy.

At least Oshitari was polite about it, as he muttered a quick, "Excuse me", before running off to tend to Atobe's dramatics.

She took a sip of her drink, watching the scene before her with an amused twinkle in her eye. Atobe and Oshitari talked in urgent voices, with Atobe throwing several dirty glances her way.

Oshitari was quick to return to her side. "I'm terribly sorry about that. Keigo is just…" He made a vague gesture.

"PMS-ing?" Minako suggested.

"That would probably be the most accurate term. Yes."

"I can see why. He clearly doesn't like me."

"What?" He feigned bafflement. "Minako darling, why would you say such a—Okay fine," Oshitari amended at her expression. "Perhaps Keigo is not your biggest fan." He leaned forward surreptitiously. "I think he's just threatened that you're more stunning than he is."

Her lips curved into a reluctant smile. "You _do_ know how to slip in a compliment." She took a ginger sip of her drink, which to be honest, tasted more like rubbing alcohol. "You're not dating me to annoy him, are you?" she suddenly asked. It seemed that he was enjoying Atobe's exasperation a little too much.

"I would never do such a thing," Oshitari proclaimed. "His annoyance of you is merely a lovely side effect."

"Well, glad I could be of assistance." She raised her glass and clinked it with his. Her eyes landed on someone in the crowd. "Oh, look," she suddenly said, inclining her head in a smooth motion not unlike one of a cobra. "There's Suzuki. Your girlfriend."

Oshitari turned his eyes towards Suzuki Nanao, who thankfully, seemed to be enjoying herself among her peers after his departure. "Hmm," he pretended to contemplate. "I'm thinking of cutting that one loose. Not really my type."

"Please, Yuushi," Minako said scornfully. "When it comes to preferences in women, you have a one track mind." And, in finishing that sentence, she crossed her own pair of supple legs, smirking in satisfaction as his breathing audibly hitched.

"And what about _your _preferences?" he said lowly, his hand stealing across her knee.

"Unfortunately," she said as she pushed his hand away. "I don't see anyone around that fits the description."

"You hurt me so," he said, though not without some edge his voice, this time. "You know, Minako, we're dating now. When are you going to stop playing hard to get?"

"Maybe," she said, her lips quirking to one side, "When you stop playing hard to want."

**~x~**

Not too long after that, Minako left his side to do a turn of the room herself. She was far from a social butterfly, but she'd cultivated her own circle of powerful and influential people, many of which consisted of her members on the tennis team.

"So buchou… the rumors are true then?" Rie asked, holding up a glass of her own. "About you and Oshitari?"

"Hmm. That depends," Minako said impassively.

"Depends?" Ayumi asked, brows raised.

"On what you've heard."

"Well, you did kiss him at the prefectural finals. Hardly subtle behavior," Rie snorted.

"Oh right, I remember that," Minako said, her smile viciously pleasant. "I also remember you two losing terribly to Seigaku in doubles one."

Both Ayumi and Rie had the grace to flinch and look down shamefully.

"Ryou just wants to know if you guys are dating again," Rie muttered defensively. "He says he's tired of keeping track." She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp.

"Well if Shishido is so interested in my dating life, he could just come ask me himself."

"When are _you_ and Shishido going to start dating?" Ayumi asked teasingly, elbowing Rie in the ribs.

Rie nearly spat out her vodka soda. "As if."

"Oh come on, Rie. You guys would be adorable together!" She clapped her hands with inspiration. "And then you and buchou could go on double dates!"

Minako and Rie threw some contemptuous glances at each other. They may be captain and vice-captain, but that certainly didn't mean they were close friends.

"Speaking of double dates, have you ever gone on one with Atobe and his new girlfriend?"

"God, no." Minako grimaced. She couldn't stand Atobe, and she was starting to garner a (completely unnecessary and unreasonable) dislike for Suzuki as well.

"I just thought it was possible," Rie said. "Given how close that he and Oshitari are."

"Never in a million years," Minako declared, and finished the rest of her drink. "Atobe's idea of a double date would probably be him plus three mirrors."

**~x~**

"I'm bored," Mukahi whined. "I'm _bored._"

Shishido took another gulp of his drink. "I've gotten bored just listening you say you're bored. Lame."

The short redhead leaned up against the bar. "This party blows."

"Harder than you do." Taki agreed, and Mukahi threw his empty cup at his head for the innuendo.

"Hey, look, it's Matoko." Mukahi commented at the girls that were approaching. He sat up, just a little.

"And Shigohara," Shishido didn't even bother to keep the distaste out of his voice.

Choutarou chided, "Shishido-san, be nice."

"Hello, boys," Rie said upon their arrival. She leaned over to fist bump Shishido. "What's up? Enjoying the view?"

Taki clearly was, as he was gazing longingly at her backside.

"Congratulations on your win at the prefectural finals, Shigohara-senpai." Choutarou offered her a small smile. She gave him one in return, a soft one that was reserved just him.

"It was a close one. Seigaku almost had you there," Shishido commented.

"Yes, well…" She flicked her brown hair behind her shoulder. "At least I made it out of there with my pride and hair intact."

He let out a short bark of laughter, and had to give her that one.

"Where's Yuushi?" Mukahi asked her, his brows raised and his tone accusatory.

To her credit, Minako didn't react at all. "You tell me," she said, a condescending note in her voice. You're his… _partner_, after all."

Mukahi sputtered up his drink as the rest of the team chortled.

"And where's Atobe?" Rie asked. "I haven't seen him or his giant ego anywhere."

"Atobe?" Yoshida, a girl on student council, overheard and leaned over, "Didn't you hear? His girlfriend is puking her guts out in the bathroom." Her laughter was on the verge of kind and unkind.

Mukahi snorted. "I'm not surprised. She doesn't seem like the type to be able to hold her alcohol."

"Suzuki-san is sick? Should we call someone?" Takada, the ever-hospitable host of the party, said worriedly. "I mean, Father would _kill_ me if I had to call an ambulance."

"It's okay! Atobe's taking care of her!" another girl said. "He's such a good boyfriend!"

Minako felt her eyebrow twitch, ever so slightly.

"I caught a glimpse of them!" someone else said excitedly. "He's kneeling on the bathroom floor with her to make sure she's okay. Isn't that sweet?"

"Atobe-senpai is so dreamy!"

"Excuse me," Minako said, picking up another glass full of clear liquid. Rie's sharp eyes surveyed her curiously, but she ignored her and made her way to the other side of the room.

Who exactly _was_ this girl?

Who _was_ this girl that could, literally, bring the great Atobe to his knees? And for that matter, capture some extent of affection from Oshitari?

"_If only someone put in just a little more effort…_"

She took another long drink from the glass to drown out her mother's voice.

She never noticed Suzuki in the past. She was a short, brown-haired, unremarkable nobody, certainly not someone who was worthy of holding her attention. That is, until now.

What did Suzuki Nanao have that she, Shigohara Minako, didn't?

"_If only someone put in just a little more effort…_"

'_God,_' Minako thought angrily. '_What more do you want me to do?_'

The alcohol burned down her throat, a good-hurt, comfortingly painful and numbing.

In this world of not-good-enoughs, where perfection was only average, what else did they want from her? What else did she have to _give_?

One of her acquaintances handed her another drink, which she accepted, even though she was well aware that she should have stopped two ago. Her head was pulsing, and the room was shifting slightly.

"I've been looking for you," Oshitari said into her ear, making her jump slightly. Where have you been?"

"Hiding from you," Minako responded, edging her glass away, and turning to the side.

Something about the tone of her voice gave him pause. He moved his face closer to hers, searching her face. "Oh god. You're _drunk_," Oshitari said in gleeful realization.

"I am _not_," she protested. "I am perfectly—"

"You're drunk."

She kicked him. "Shut up," she mumbled.

He laughed lowly, looping an arm over her shoulders as he sat down. "I don't think I've ever seen you drunk before. It is rather fascinating."

She leaned into him slightly, which was something she would never do if she were sober. It surprised him, though certainly not unpleasantly. He twirled a lock of her hair. "Maybe I should get you drunk more often."

She made an annoyed noise against his shoulder.

"So, why did you drink so much?"

She exhaled. Shrugged. "I had a lot on my mind."

He took her hand in his, and brushed some curls from her face with the other. "Do you want to talk about it?"

_Yes. My father wants to take your father to court and take all his money. I'm supposed to be a distraction. Oh, on top of that, my mother thinks it would be a good idea if I seduce your best friend at the same time. Plus, she still resents me for not being able to catch his attention in middle school, especially now that some no-name girl swooped by and landed the great Atobe._

_Did I leave anything out?_

"Not really."

"Well, at least allow me to escort you home," he said quietly, his thumb tracing a circle on her hand.

A pause.

And she thought, '_Oh, this is a very bad idea, Minako, very bad, you are traveling down a dark path, you are way too intoxicated for this…_'

"Okay."

**~x~**

Outside the mansion, Oshitari led her around a cluster of people in glittering dresses and colorful silk shirts. The party was winding down, and at least twenty cars were pulling up, headlights flashing. One unfortunate girl was crouched over a curb, her hair held back by a friend. A few more drinks and she could've been that girl, Minako thought, the lights spinning and her head whirling.

Oshitari guided her through the throes of people, his hand warm and protective against her waist, to the limo that was waiting.

The limo door was shut, cutting off the outside world.

For just a moment, just a long, perfect, agonizing moment, she looked at him, and he looked right back at her.

If the eyes were the windows to a person's soul, then surely the drapes were shut on his. Because she could never read the ice-hot burn of his gaze. Could never know, what he truly wanted, what he wanted from her, except _wanting – wanting._

And just then, she had the urge to break something perfect, which was so against her usual character.

She leaned forward and kissed him, cupping her face in her hands. His mouth was hot on hers, hot and sweet.

"Minako," he said hoarsely, pulling away with an aching sort of reluctance. "Minako. You're drunk."

"It's just a kiss," she breathed back. _It's just a goddamned kiss, it doesn't mean anything, it can't mean anything for us._

Apparently, this was convincing enough, since he tore her towards him and brought his mouth upon hers once more. His fingers slid into the silk of her hair. His arm snaked around her waist, pressing her to him.

He kissed her, over and over, his lips on hers, then on her neck, then on the smooth skin of her collarbone.

And she felt like she would crinkle and burn, just from the heat of it all.

"Shigohara residence," the limousine driver announced suddenly.

That jolted both of them back to reality. She pulled back from him, her breathing uneven and her heart pounding in her ears. "Sorry," she couldn't help but say, and didn't even know why she felt to urge to say. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

He caught his breath gradually, before taking her hand. "Let's get you inside."

**~x~**

As they climbed out of the limo, he steadied her on her feet, one hand wrapped around her waist. "Hey," he murmured in her ear. "Would your father kill me if I took you up to your room?"

She mumbled under her breath, "He'd probably give you a high five."

"What?"

"Nothing. He won't care too much."

"I _would_ just leave you on your doorstep, like a gentleman… but I worry about making you climb that large staircase on your own." He shot her feet a reproachful glance. "Especially in those stilettos of yours. Though I have to admit, they make your legs look divine."

She could just take them off, but he wasn't about to offer up _that_ suggestion. Not when she could climb the stairs with on hand on the bannister and the other arm wrapped deliciously around his shoulders.

"I'm tired, Yuushi," she complained, leaning over for breath about halfway up. "I'm tired."

"That's too bad. I was hoping we could reenact the staircase scene from Act I."

She rolled her eyes, pushing herself up another step, wobbling dangerously on her heels. "Never mind. I'll keep going."

Oshitari laughed and caught up. "If that's the case, I could carry you. I always carried you in middle school. Remember those engagement photos we took?"

"I weighed a lot less in middle school."

"You have grown up quite nicely," he murmured fondly.

She swung to hit him playfully, but missed.

He scooped her up into his arms, and she was mildly stunned at how strong he was as he took to the rest of the steps, two at a time. He stumbled slightly on the last four steps. Minako tightened her grip on his neck, and said with a soft smile, "Am I heavy?"

"In the interest of self-preservation, I choose not to answer that."

"You just did. I am insulted, Yuushi. A true gentleman would say, '_No, of course not, what could possibly make you think such a thing?_'"

He dipped his head to press a kiss to her cheek, one that lingered for far too long. "Lucky for you," he murmured hotly against the skin of her ear. "I'm not _quite_ a true gentlemen."

"Lucky for you that I don't ram my foot against your face."

"Such cruel words, Minako-chan. You do know how to wound."

"Apparently not lethally, since you keep bouncing back."

Oshitari chuckled deeply as he carried her into her room. "Come to think of it," he said, looking around. "I don't think you've ever allowed me in here before."

"You can put me down now," she said firmly, trying to twist her way out of the death-grip he had on her legs.

He ignored her and carried her straight to her bed, depositing on her on the silken sheets. The lack of her weight threw him off balance, and he ended up tumbling onto her bed, on top of her. The weight of him on her felt scandalizing, and his gaze felt even more scandalizing. For an anxious, fearful moment, she wondered if he expected them to pick up where they left off.

She was not in the right state of mind to agree, but even more importantly, in her state of mind, she doubted she'd be able to refuse.

But he only leaned in to press an unbelievably chaste kiss to her temple.

As he pulled away, she said, "You really are good to me," quietly, almost in wonder.

He smiled like he held a secret close to his heart. "I try to be."

"And," he continued, lifting her hand. "You're good to me, too." He brushed his lips against her knuckles. It was funny how the warmth of his mouth could make her shiver. "Sweet dreams, my Juliet."

She ignored his last few words, just as she ignored the guilt running through her veins as he left her room, and the sting of worthlessness in her unshed tears. Ignored it all, and went to sleep.

That night, she dreamed of a fairytale.

**~x~**

End Chapter Three

**A/N: Please review and tell me what you think? I write faster with reviews!**

Sorry if Minako seems to be a bit bipolar. I certainly act differently when I'm under the influence.

And then make sure to read/review IAG, because apparently I only write when coffeelatte is hounding me for updates. Also, Minako makes a lovely appearance in the latest chapter of It's All Greek!

HOW DO YOU GUYS FEEL ABOUT SEEING MORE ATOBE / NANAO? :D :D

Next chapter: In which a car is stolen.


	4. Act II, Scene I

**A/N: **I'm not too happy about this chapter, but I'm flying to Taiwan for a business thingy tomorrow, so just thought I'd get this up there.

Also, you might want to reread coffeelatte's IAG chapters 14 and 15 (the bits with Minako at least) because those are plot points I tackle in this chapter.

And the car is not stolen in this chapter. Sorry. Next chapter.

**Dedicated to The Jabberer, **because there is no sex in this chapter.

**~x~**

_This cannot anger him. 'Twould anger him_

_To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle_

_Of some strange nature, letting it there stand_

_Till she had laid it and conjured it down._

_That were some spite. My invocation_

_Is fair and honest. In his mistress' name_

_I conjure only but to raise up him._

\- _William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet_

**~x~**

Shigohara Minako had three lists.

The-People-She-Despised List: Her father was the first name on the list. Atobe was the second.

The-People-She-Tolerated List: This list included a few select peers, as well as some girls from the tennis club, and Ootori Choutarou. Oshitari and her mother were occasionally bounced back and forth between the first two lists.

The-People-She-Couldn't-Care-Less-About List: This encompassed the remaining 1,645 students at Hyotei, various business contacts and random members of high society that she had met at some point.

Suzuki Nanao had always been on list number three.

Now however, Minako was strongly considering bumping her to list number one.

**~x~**

It wasn't as if the dislike was _completely _unfounded. She knew the short girl had a crush on Oshitari, and while Minako wasn't really _together_ with Oshitari (not _really_… ) She'd like to think that it made him off limits.

But since he and Atobe were so close, that also meant he spent a great deal of time with Suzuki as well.

And, she couldn't help but notice that as of late, Oshitari would slip her into their conversations and look so terribly _fond_ when he spoke of her—

But she was Shigohara Minako, for crying out loud. Jealousy did not suit her, not at all. So she locked up her feelings, and went about her week normally.

On Monday, she smiled as Oshitari mentioned her, pretending that hearing Suzuki's name didn't cause her fingers to curl up into fists.

On Tuesday, she'd overhead her vice-captain talking about her to Shishido, saying something along the lines of, "But she's so great for him, she's so down to earth..."

By Wednesday, she'd taken to calling Suzuki Nanao ugly words in her head.

But the typical array of degrading female words didn't quite suit Suzuki. So the ugly names consisted of "goody-two-shoes", "linguistically-challenged,", and, one word Atobe seemed particularly fond of, "_Commoner_."

The last one was admittedly a stretch. In fact, Suzuki Nanao was a bit of an heiress herself. But, as a principle, Minako liked to consider others beneath her.

So, on Thursday, when she saw Suzuki sitting on the bleachers of the boys' tennis courts, supposedly waiting for Atobe but looking so love-sickly at Oshitari…

Well, she'd had just about enough.

**~x~**

Though, Minako was not planning to confront Suzuki directly. She was not _stupid_. Suzuki may not be in love with her boyfriend Atobe, but that didn't mean she did not have his favor. And Minako knew, as a golden rule of society – one does not simply cross an Atobe.

She preferred much more subtle means of attack, anyways.

As usual, the short girl was doing schoolwork by the tennis court. Occasionally, she would cast longing glances towards Oshitari, and then clapping for Atobe immediately after, as if she felt guilty. '_Oh,_' Minako thought, with a cruel sort of pity. '_You poor, poor girl. You can't survive in this world if you're so easy to read_.'

She strode over to his court, her steps languorous and predatory. "Yuushi."

"Minako dear," he said bemusedly. As the girls' team captain, she rarely came to the boys' courts during practice. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Even from that distance, she could tell that Suzuki had stopped to stare at them.

She slipped a hand into her tennis bag and pulled out the Shakespeare companion book she'd borrowed during class. "I finished the interpretations, so I thought you might need this back." She handed it to him, taking extra care to brush her hand against his as she did.

"Are you _sure_ that's all you came for?" he questioned, in an I-know-you're-up-to-something tone.

She snuck a quick glance at the bleachers. Suzuki was still watching them, though she couldn't decipher her expression from afar.

Her lips curved up into a cruel smile. She knew that she could just kiss him now, and crush Suzuki's hopes and dreams in one swoop. But really, where was the fun in that?

Instead, she purposefully took a step closer to Oshitari, so that they were almost touching. "Well. Maybe I just wanted to see you."

"A compliment, from you?" He clutched his chest dramatically. "Be still, my beating heart."

Her answering laugh was silvery.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Suzuki's shoulders had slumped dejectedly. A second later, the girl was gone.

'_Oh sweetie,_' she thought, the light in her eyes hard and unkind. '_Didn't you come to play?_'

"Hey," Oshitari was saying, and she directed her attention back to him. "Let's do something tonight."

"Like what?" She already had her plans that evening, but she was curious as to what he was offering.

"Something. Anything. Something you've always wanted to do."

She spread her hands, amused. "Surprise me. I don't really have any preferences."

"Hmm…" he mused thoughtfully. "Let me put it this way. If you had a million dollars—"

"I do," she interrupted with a smirk. The latest tabloid article reported her as one the top twenty wealthiest heiresses in Tokyo. (_Shigohara Minako. Net Worth: Roughly 6 billion._)

Oshitari sighed, rephrasing, "If you could do anything right now, what would you do?"

"Besides getting rid of you?"

"Mi-_na-_ko. Might I remind you that _you _were the one who came to see _me_?" he said triumphantly, and she sighed with irritation.

"Off the top of your head," he tried. "What do you want most right now?"

'_A sainthood_,' said her sarcastic wit, but when she opened her mouth, what came out was: "A Lamborghini."

He raised his eyebrows in amusement.

Even she looked momentarily stumped at her own answer, like she wasn't sure why she'd said it. Then she shrugged. "My father doesn't think women should drive sports cars." '_Or do anything,_' she added silently. '_Besides batting their eyelashes and looking pretty._' "Hence, I've always wanted to drive a sports car."

"Well. If that's the case, maybe I could take you to a dealership this evening, and we could test-drive one of them." It wasn't really the romantic date he had in mind, but it would do. There were worse things. She could have wanted to visit the serial killer museum exhibit.

"Unfortunately, I have plans," she responded, feeling a little regretful. It did sound like fun; good, mindless fun. "Father wants me to meet some other business partner of his, and I'm afraid I can't cancel on him. You know how it is."

"That's too bad. Next time."

**~x~**

Minako got home with enough time to shower and change for the meeting. Her attire for these meetings was always the same: lacy stockings, a tight skirt, a button down that was barely buttoned at all. Her makeup was dark and sultry, and her hair glossy and glamorous. She accessorized with gold and pearls, and checked herself in the mirror. After she made sure every detail was perfect, she descended the stairs to find her father.

Her father was in the living room, sitting down with what appeared to be two men in suits. He was pouring the nice whisky, she noticed. This was no doubt a large and powerful client.

One of the men looked far too young to be in business. He couldn't be much older than she was. Good-looking, she thought. '_Not bad at all._'

It was then that her father caught sight of her, and beckoned with a smile. "Minako, dear, could you come here for a moment?"

Oh, she thought. This could not be good.

Obediently, she stepped forward.

"Minako, this is Monsieur Dumont, and his son, Adrien."

Adrien stood up as he was introduced.

Minako put on one of her most dazzling smiles. "How do you do?"

"Enchanté," Adrien said, leaning over. Her eyes widened when he kissed her delicately on both her cheeks. She'd forgotten that's how the Europeans did it. "Il paraît que vous parlais Francais."

"Seulement un peu, et très mal," Minako managed, her tongue tripping over the words slightly. It'd been years since she lived in France, and she'd only stayed there long enough for her father to wrap up yet another deal.

"Ah. Then it is a good thing I can speak Japanese, yes?" His accent was exotic and strange.

"They're staying at the Crowne Jewel Hotel for a couple days. So while Monsieur Dumont and I discuss business…" Her father waved a hand vaguely in her direction. "You can entertain Adrien."

Minako froze.

The word "_entertain_" did not carry the same meaning for her as it did for others, not when it came from her father. Usually, as a hostess, "entertain" meant keeping someone company and making sure they were enjoying themselves.

For Minako, it meant more than that.

In fact, her role in her father's business dealings could be likened to that of a geisha, or a courtesan, or even – dare she say it – an _escort._

An escort only in the _strictest_ sense of the word, that is. She was their date at business dinners while their fathers talked eight-figure deals, she took them to opera shows, and was their personal tour guide to the Tokyo skyline. On top of that, however – it was her job to make them feel _wanted, _to use any power of her feminine charm and trap them into a web of business contracts and legal clauses and dotted lines.

She was very, very good at it.

Obviously, she only stepped in when there was someone her age. Her father may be a morally reprehensible person, but he wasn't _disgusting_ – he would never pimp her out to some middle-aged businessmen.

(He had her mother for that, and she was more than willing to help.)

By now, Minako had it down to a sickeningly simple formula. It was the way she smiled, the way she batted her eyelashes, the way she leaned in _just-so _to give them a hint of cleavage. She flirted shamelessly, filled their heads with distracting thoughts of love, addled their brains with desire.

("_Desire is a dangerous thing, Minako," _her mother always warned. "_It makes people stupid._")

As long as they wanted her, as long as _they thought they could have her_, she had them wrapped around her finger. The power was all hers. She could make them do anything she wanted. Sell their soul. Sign the dotted line.

But she'd never touched them – oh no – not like _that_. Whenever they got too close, too expectant… Well, she only needed to quirk her lips downwards and whisper on how strict her father was, on how he'd kill them both if something were to _truly_ happen between them.

They'd give up, agreeably, just like that. Shigohara Noburu was a powerful man. They knew better than to cross him.

And that's how Minako compiled her own list of conquests without even a shred of indecency.

She was her mother's daughter, after all.

But this was a little more than she bargained for. "Father," she said, trying to catch his eye and send him a telepathic message, '_Um, I'm dating Oshitari now, remember? I have a project. I'm off the hook._' "I would love to entertain Adrien-san for the next few days. But I have school and tennis practice."

"You play tennis?" Adrien's eyes lit up with interest.

Monsieur Dumont gave him a fond look. "Adrien _loves_ tennis. He practically lived at the Roland Garros during the French Open."

"Perfect," her father declared. "We can drop you off at Minako's tennis practice in the afternoons, and she'll take it from there." His tone was one of finality.

There was a gleam in Adrien's eyes. "Maybe you could give me a lesson, Minako?"

Her given name sounded foreign and odd and so very _wrong_ on his lips. Minako gave him a frosty smile, before turning back. "Father," she said more meaningfully, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I _can't._ I have my hands full with Oshitari right now."

Her father finally threw her an annoyed glance, raising a disgusted eyebrow. "You're a woman, Minako," he said. "_Multitask._"

She drew in a sharp breath. Her hands clenched around her skirt, and she quickly weighed her options – only, there were no options to weigh.

"If you say so, Father."

**~x~**

"Monsieur Frédéric Dumont, huh?" Shigohara Hana mused later that evening, pouring herself a generous amount of gin into a martini glass. "Quite a big shot, that one is. He practically runs the financial landscape in France by himself."

"He listens a great deal to his son Adrien. Smart boy. Extremely bright." Noboru swirled the amber liquid in his glass before taking a sip. "I sent Minako after him today."

"If this deal goes through, we'll have enough support to take the Oshitaris to court a thousand times over." Her smirk was sly, like one of a fox. "And we might end up finding ourselves a suitable son-in-law."

"We shall see. Minako was concerned with dealing with both him and Oshitari at the same time." He drained his glass. "Do you think she can handle it?"

Hana's laugh was dark and silky. "If she can't, then I will have taught her nothing."

They clinked glasses.

**~x~**

"I saw _her_ today."

Oshitari flipped a page in his latest romance novel, _Pearl in the Mist_. "By your childishly petulant tone, I assume you're talking about Minako."

Atobe made a noise that sounded like a grunt in assent.

"Well," Oshitari said, "You are more fortunate that I am (Atobe scoffed at the word _'fortunate'_), because I didn't get to see her at all today." He'd attended his younger sister Erina's fencing tournament, and spent the better part of the afternoon watching her tear into an opponent. Literally.

"She was with someone."

"I would hope so. It hurts me to think that she would be utterly alone in my absence."

"She was with a _boy_, Yuushi."

At this, Oshitari finally lifted his eyes to Atobe's, for the briefest moment. Then, he went back to the book. "You're being paranoid."

Atobe's gaze turned to steel.

"And it doesn't matter, anyways," Oshitari continued nonchalantly, fixing his eyes on a line in the text. "We never said we were exclusive."

"Do you take me for a fool?"

Oshitari didn't say anything, but he did lower the book to reveal narrowed eyes.

"Stop pretending this isn't bothering you."

"Well then, Keigo. What do you expect me to do?" Oshitari said, closing the novel. "Cry? Weep over my broken heart?"

"I expect you," Atobe said, his voice cutting through the mockery. "To not _stand_ for that kind of behavior. It's not okay, Yuushi, and you know that."

"Your concern is appreciated, Keigo," Oshitari said, his tone dark. His eyes bore into Atobe's gaze and held it, like an equal. "But trust me. It's not necessary."

**~x~**

However, the next day, Oshitari wandered over to the girls' courts during practice. Much as he didn't want to admit it, Atobe had planted a tiny seed of doubt in his mind.

He had no idea what this supposed _boy_ looked like, but the minute he saw him, he knew. Knew in the pit of his heart that this was the boy Atobe was referring to.

(Granted, he also happened to be the only boy sitting on the bleachers, but Oshitari liked to think that his instinct was unparalleled.)

"Hello."

The blonde boy barely turned his head.

"I haven't seen you around," Oshitari tried again, all smiles and courtesy. "Are you new here?"

This time, blonde boy glanced up, half-baffled and half-affronted, as if he wanted to see who _dared_ to speak at him that way. "I am," he said haughtily in accented Japanese. "A _visitor_."

"Oh? And where do you happen to be visiting from?"

At this, the boy whirled. "Who _are_ you?"

"Oshitari Yuushi," he said with a little bow. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Adrien!" Minako called, hurrying back. "I got one of the girls to lend you a racket- Oh." She stopped as soon as she saw Oshitari. There was a pause, and then she offered a hesitant smile. "Hi, you. Have you met Adrien?"

"Hello yourself," he said, leaning back easily. "And yes, we have met."

Adrien turned to Minako suspiciously. "Qui est-il?"

"Un ami".

"Ah." He offered Oshitari a hostile smile, extending a hand. "It is nice to meet any friend of Minako's."

Oshitari shook his hand with measured politeness. "The same goes for you." He turned to her. "Minako," he said mildly, "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

She barely spared him a glance, "Not now, Oshitari. I have company. Adrien?" On him, she bestowed a perfect smile. "Shall we play?"

Adrien tossed a victorious smirk over his shoulder as he followed her onto the court.

Oshitari felt his own lips tighten in response.

**~x~**

As far as she could tell, Adrien was a nice person. She'd dealt with worse. But that didn't mean she enjoyed him following her like a puppy (or a bodyguard) all weekend long.

Also, while his tennis skills were mostly passable, his forehand was absolutely _atrocious_. She had first years in her club that could do better.

Not that she could point that out politely.

She'd done her usual routine, showing him around Tokyo, treating him to her favorite high-class restaurants, making mindless small talk for hours. He'd shared with her his views on French literature, and helped her practice some long forgotten phrases.

And, though she could sense his growing attraction for her, he'd been a complete gentleman. Considerate, confident, and capable of somewhat intelligent discourse. Usually that was someone Minako thought that she could be friends with.

But when he and his father left for France the following day, Minako couldn't help breath a sigh of relief.

Now things could go back to normal.

Unfortunately, some people did not share that thought. That morning, Oshitari brushed by her to get into the classroom without acknowledging her.

"Hey," she said, stung. She followed him to his desk. "Yuushi."

"Oh, is it '_Yuushi_' now?"

She almost flinched – almost.

"Look, Yuushi," she started again. "About Adrien—"

"It doesn't matter," he said smoothly, cutting her off. He smiled, and she wished he hadn't. "It's fine. We never discussed exclusivity, after all."

"Oh. Okay," she faltered. Part of her wanted to explain, '_No, it's not like that, this is what I do, he was just a business thing…'_ but the other part of her was oddly dissatisfied and annoyed with his response. "Well… then." Her hands were clasped behind her back; had they hung free, she would've wrung them. "Are we…"

"We," he said with a little laugh, soft and unsettling. "Are fine. Don't worry."

She didn't believe that for an instant, but she wasn't about to contradict him. She had too much pride for that. "If you say so," she said.

'_If you say so._' Those were words she said to her father. She swallowed, running her thumb down her jaw, and then back again.

"Minako," he said. His mouth was a smile, but his eyes weren't; they were hard, challenging. "How would you like to go dancing with me on Saturday?"

It was a cleverly masked question. He wasn't actually giving her a choice. Because how could she refuse, at this point?

What exactly was wrong, she wasn't sure, but she had the compelling urge to fix it, to make things normal again. To make things perfect.

She swallowed. "I'd love to."

_Game, Oshitari. One game to love_.

**~x~**

Saturday afternoon came by all too soon. He'd brought her to a small dance club, not too far from the beach. During the night, the club was filled with drunken partygoers and loud house music, but during the day it was a bright, airy room dotted with various couples that were waltzing to the live jazz band.

Oshitari took her hand in his, settled the other at the small of her back, and led her onto the floor. "So, how have things been?"

"Fine," she said. Then, "I made some headway in our project." '_Wow,'_ she thought. _'I actually resorted to talking about our literature project. Do you really need to be so desperate, Minako?.'_

"I feel like my contributions have been lacking as of late," he said lightly. "I'll make sure to rectify that."

He spun her twice, and she glided gracefully across the floor, her dance training evident in her smooth movements.

"Did you have fun with your friend?" he mentioned offhandedly. "The one from France?"

Hello, elephant. Welcome to the room.

"I did. Thank you for asking."

He smiled. And she did, back.

The strain between them felt like a violin string, a racket gut that was strung too tight.

Just then, the jazz band strung up the chords of a Viennese waltz, for which she was grateful. This type of waltz was fast-paced and complicated, so for the duration of the song, they could forget about conversation and concentrate on their steps, dancing with each other, spiraling into circles.

"How long are we planning to stay?" she asked as the band slowed the music down once more, to a more traditional waltz.

"I could spend the entire day with you in my arms—" Since when did his charming phrases become so _mocking, _she wondered— "But we just have to leave by three. I have a date with Suzuki at five."

A beat of silence. "What did you say?" Minako said, disbelief marring her usually neutral expression.

"I have a date with Suzuki at five," he repeated. Her surprise must've shown on her face, because he followed up with an innocent, "Oh, did I not mention this before?"

"No." She had to fight the urge to tighten her hand around his. "No, you didn't."

"Silly me. It must've slipped my mind."

"And," she said, her voice poisonously sweet. "How does Atobe feel about this? You taking his little girlfriend out?"

"Oh, their relationship isn't _real_," he said, smirking in satisfaction at her bewilderment. "Did I forget to mention that as well? He's only using her to delay an arranged marriage."

She blinked, baffled.

Wait.

_What?_

So, this whole time… they weren't even actually _together?_

That meant that Suzuki Nanao and Atobe Keigo were technically single people.

Single, and very much available.

Oshitari smirked as the clarity dawned on her face. "And you did say that she was _smitten_ with me…" he said casually as he waltzed her around. "So who am I to turn such a lovely treasure away?"

It was obvious that he was still angry with her, and intentionally provoking her, but she wasn't going to react. She would not give him that sort of satisfaction.

Besides, she was _Shigohara Minako_, for god's sake, she would not let herself get jealous over someone _as insignificant as _Suzuki Nanao.

And the little voice inside her head reminded her that it was a good thing, him thinking of seeing another girl. That way, neither of them would be attached in this relationship and she could break it off when her Father needed her to, without feeling like an awful human being. She should be happy for him.

She forced a smile. "Of course you shouldn't turn her away," she agreed, ignoring the knot that was tightening in her gut. "She's a nice girl."

"I've always thought so," he said, driving the knife in just a little deeper. "She's just so sincere and genuine. It really is a breath of fresh air."

"How lucky for you both."

"Mmhmm," he murmured. "Girls like her are just so rare nowadays."

That's when she snapped.

Not on the outside, no. She maintained damn near-perfect image of classiness and pleasantry.

But on the inside, she was beyond irritated. Not angry, not quite _angry_, but very, _very_ annoyed. Oshitari had brought her here, had made it his intent to torture her, to punish her, and spent the last hour or so doing just that.

And damn it, if he thought she was going to take that lying down.

She had to retaliate.

That was when she saw the coiled wires on the ground, near the speakers they were waltzing by. Smirking, she hatched a plan.

Minako was aware that she was the vengeful, vindictive type of girl. Why deny it? Malevolence, when used properly, could work to one's advantage. And there were few things more satisfying than successfully executing a plan of revenge.

The jazz band struck up a fox trot, and he adjusted to the new rhythm seamlessly, twirling her perfectly in time. Like many young men in high society, Oshitari was an accomplished social dancer.

She bided her time. Waited, until they had done another circle of the room and ended up back at the speakers. Discreetly, she hooked the heel of her shoe into one of the coils.

She only intended to trip them both, maybe twist her ankle a little, just enough to make him late for his date with Suzuki — but her plan went terribly awry. Oshitari pulled her in for a twirl at that exact moment, and suddenly her leg was tangled in the cords. Something was yanked tight and they both went flying for the ground. The noise from the speaker exploded into static.

Minako landed on the ground, landed on her ankle badly. It gave way with a funny little _pop_, and her vision went white with pain. In that moment, she knew something was wrong – really _wrong_.

She was the vindictive sort, but apparently there was someone out there that was even more vindictive than she was.

Karma.

**~x~**

"Son of a –" Minako bit off. She was not one for swearing, but Jesus _Christ _it _hurt._

Oshitari flagged down a bystander. "Call an ambulance. _Now._" He moved to her side, wrapping his arm around her waist as he sat next to her. His hand was at the arch of her back, supporting her. "Minako. Minako, Are you all right?" Genuine horror in his voice, genuine concern. She could _feel _that sort of toxic energy between them evaporating.

Well, at least that was some consolation. She bit her lip, her face contorted in pain.

"Minako," he said again, his eyes changing. _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. _"Are you all right?"

"Do I…" She breathed through the pain shooting down her leg. "_Look _like I'm all right?"

He gave her ankle a cautious glance, his eyes visibly widening.

"What?" she demanded warily. She tried to sit up, and her leg quivered in effort. "_What_?"

His hand went for her eyes, intending to cover them. "You might not want to—"

Too late. She saw the way her ankle looked, the way it was twisted grotesquely beneath her, bent like no joint should ever be bent. Her stomach churned. "I think," she said calmly, her face white as a sheet. "That I'm going to throw up."

Oshitari pulled her towards him, cradling her head to his chest. "Don't look, then," he scolded.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she said into his shirt, her breath coming out in short gasps.

"I'd rather you not. This is a very nice shirt."

"Shut up," she mumbled, concealing a weak laugh.

Even though she was shaking, _shaking _in his arms, he was struck by how tough she was being. She hadn't cried, or screamed, or given any true indication of the pain. (And,_ god_, did that injury look painful.)

When Gakuto had hurt his leg, he'd wailed like a little girl.

He rested his head on top of hers. "You'll be okay. An ambulance is on its way. Just calm down."

Silence, except her breaths as she shivered.

"Mi-_na_-ko. I can actually _feel_ your heart pounding. Calm down."

More silence. More trembling.

"Shh…" He whispered. He pressed her into his chest, stroking her hair, his lips next to her ear. "Shh…"

His breath whistled past her ear, and she was reminded of before, the way his lips felt there, how hot his tongue was. Her heart started hammering against her ribcage for a different reason entirely. That bastard; he knew exactly what he was doing. "You are _not_ helping."

He laughed lowly. "All right," he conceded, moving his head away. "How about if I read you a story? Would that help?" He had a book or two in his bag.

"As long as it's not some stupid one where the girl suddenly gets leukemia and dies and then the boy commits suicide on a beach in Cancun."

His lips parted slightly, and he swiveled his head to face her. How did she know about the plight of Amari-chan and Ginta-kun?

Seeing the surprise on his face, she said grudgingly, "That romance novel you gave me for White Day? I skimmed it."

For White Day, he'd given her one of his favorite romance novels; only he'd painstakingly crossed out all the names of the protagonist and replaced them with "Oshitari Yuushi" and "Shigohara Minako." "You _read_ it?" he said joyously.

"Skimmed, Yuushi. The word is skimmed."

"Isn't it the most lovely—"

"The first page alone nearly gave me diabetes."

The caustic bite in her words brought a grin to his face, one that was tinged with relief. "Well, unless you've got anything better…"

She smiled faintly. "I've got _Anna Karenina._"

He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "That Russian novel where the woman throws herself under a train in the end?"

"It's a _classic_, Yuushi."

"It's _classically boring_ is what it is."

"Just because it isn't filled with ridiculous scenarios of leukemia and dying on beaches—"

"What's romantic about getting run over by a train?"

"Romance isn't the _point_ of the story, it's about societal expectations and self-discovery—"

"I'd rather discover the turmoil of Amari-chan and Ginta-kun as they are torn from each other's arms in life and reunited lovingly in death—"

"If you say that again, I really am going to throw up."

"Please don't. I am fond of this shirt."

It went on like that for a while. When the ambulance arrived, she was almost surprised to see it.

**~x~**

It was at times like these when she truly appreciated the hierarchy of society, Minako thought, as they wheeled her into a private emergency room. Upon her arrival to the hospital, there had been long line of patients ahead of her. However, Oshitari only had to say his _name_ before every single staff member jumped to help them.

(Apparently Oshitari's father had donated every last piece of equipment in the hospital.)

In mere moments, the staff members pushed her to the front of the line and ahead of all other patients in the waiting room. A second later, she was being whisked away by a nurse for treatment.

(She felt bad about the kid who looked like he'd been stabbed. He should've been attended to first.)

"Yuushi," she said, as they were waiting for the X-rays to come back. "When the doctor comes back… Could you leave for a moment?"

His fingers, entwined with hers, tightened. "Is something wrong?"

"Could you just wait outside?" she asked. "Please? Just… please?"

He couldn't recall the last time she asked him for something. "Sure," he said. "Of course."

The doctor came back with the dark sheets of glossy paper, and started to place them on the overhead. Oshitari dropped a kiss on her temple. "I'll see you in a bit."

As the door swung shut behind him, she exhaled. His support was comforting, and she was thankful that he was here, but she didn't want him to hear the verdict with her.

If it meant that she'd ruined her tennis career, ruined her dance career, ruined _everything_, then she wasn't sure she could hold it together in front of him.

"Hmm…" the doctor said, frowning at the X-Ray.

"What is it?" she asked, her hand tightening around the sheet. _God, it's over, isn't it? It's over for me. The tennis season, ballet…_

"You're lucky. It's only dislocated." With a _snap_, she pulled on two white disposable gloves. "I can fix it right here. I don't even need any equipment."

She didn't trust her voice. "R-Really?"

"Yes. This happens to athletes all the time. Hang on." She reached for her ankle, her two hands expertly gripping the muscle. She said, "This will hurt," apologetically, and pulled and _twisted._

A sharp cry of pain escaped her, followed by a yelp of surprise as the joint popped back into place.

The doctor smiled, wrinkles crinkling around her mouth. "There you go, honey. All fixed."

She was too stunned to speak. Her ankle, though purple and swollen, was… _normal_ again, not twisted and mangled like gnarled tree root. Relief washed over her in waves.

"Now, you'll have to take it easy for about a week," she informed her as she wrapped the ankle deftly up in a white bandage. "No strenuous activity, and keep it wrapped up at all times."

"Thank you." Minako wanted to hug her, except she wasn't really the type to give out hugs. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," the doctor responded with a pat on her head. "I'll go tell your boyfriend he can take you home."

"Oh, he's not my…" she started automatically, but trailed off as the paramedic gave her a puzzled look. "Okay. Yes, please just let him know."

**~x~**

The doctor said she had to keep her leg elevated. Oshitari's solution to that was to have her lying down in the backseat of the limousine, her leg propped up on the cup-holder and her head in his lap.

She wasn't sure if it was benefiting her leg or him more.

"Matoko is going to be very upset with you," he commented, stroking her hair absently. "She's going into the Kantou tournaments without her number one seed."

"I can handle Rie. And the team can handle themselves."

The next few minutes were silent, punctuated by the lulls and bumps in the road. He ran his fingers through her hair luxuriously, while she stared ahead at nothing.

Then,

"I did it on purpose, you know."

His eyes widened – at her actions or at her admittance of them, she wasn't sure.

For a moment, she thought he would be angry with her. Then, a slow smile spread across his face. "I know," he said, quietly. "I knew."

"I just wanted to make you late. I didn't _mean_ for this to happen. I'm…" She couldn't quite bring herself to say "_sorry_".

"Minako," he said. She titled her head upwards to look at him. He was giving her one of his trademark crooked smiles, one that made her heart do a weird flutter. "It's fine. I'm extremely honored that you went through all that effort."

She looked away and shrugged against him. "It wasn't _that _much effort."

"You dislocated an ankle for me. The evidence speaks to the contrary."

"That wasn't my intention."

"Maybe not, but it was certainly the outcome."

"Mmmf," she protested intelligently, and shifted to the side.

He sighed, moving one hand to massage her temple. "Though," he murmured. "You did cause me a bit of trouble. I'll have to formally apologize to Suzuki-san, and Keigo's going to throw a fit now that I've stood her up."

"Why would he care? It's not like he likes her. It's a fake relationship, after all."

"Hmm… we'll see." His tone suggested otherwise. And if Oshitari thought so, he was probably right. Damn geniuses.

"Are you keeping secrets from me, Oshitari Yuushi?" she demanded teasingly. "That's not a sign of a healthy relationship."

After her words, she lifted her head back to look at him. He'd quirked an eyebrow in silent amusement, and she agreed with a bitter smile.

_Nothing_ about this relationship was healthy.

Except maybe, this. These moments.

With a sigh, she nestled her head against his leg.

"Come to think about it, you never told me how your father took the news about us." He moved his head to face her, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "I can't imagine he was very happy about it."

'_Happy? He was ecstatic._' "Yeah…" she lied. "He wasn't. But he didn't care as much as I thought he would. I think…" She tried to find some truth to tell. "I think he knows that it can't last."

Oshitari didn't say anything. Didn't deny it.

"What about your father?" She inquired before he could ask her anything else. "How did _he_ react?"

"Oh, that." He chuckled. "He told me to use this relationship to raise my social standing."

Minako stared at him, speechless, stunned at his blatant confession of this. If his father said this, then maybe he—

"Relax," he suddenly said, reaching out to caress her cheek. "That's not why I'm dating you."

"Then why?" she said, her voice threatening to tremble.

"Why?" he echoed.

"Why are you dating me?"

He just looked at her, and she waited. She moved her finger along the edge of her jaw, anxiously, as if following an old, comforting path.

Because if both their parents agreed to this relationship, regardless of their reasons for doing so, then there was no conflict. His dream to live out a real-life Romeo and Juliet was ruined. So he had no reason to continue it.

And if seduction was the only thing he was after… Then he certainly didn't have to go through all the trouble with her. There were a number of leggy Hyotei beauties that would be easier and far more willing.

He titled his head to the side, his hand on his chin, and studied her under an even gaze. As if she was a puzzle. As if he couldn't quite figure her out.

But in all honesty, Oshitari Yuushi already _knew_ what it was in her that drew him to her.

First of all, she was extremely attractive – and he couldn't deny that that was part of it; couldn't deny that the ugly superficiality that was such a part of their world, was also a part of him. The very thought of sliding his palms down her creamy thighs made his blood race.

But it was more than that. It always was, with her.

"_Why are you dating me?"_

He smiled a layered smile. Layered with secrets, layered with enigma.

_Because I want to strip you of every single mask and see who you are when you're bare._

_Because I want to see what kind of trick I have to pull to make you believe._

_Because_ – and this was the most vicious thought of all –_ I want what you swore you would never give, and because of that, I want it from you._

But he only smiled.

Smiled and said, "Don't ask silly questions, Minako."

**~x~**

**End Chapter Four**

Usually dislocated ankles are much more serious injury, but let's pretend that they're not that bad for the sake of the story. Cool? Cool.

Guys, why is this fic so much darker than IAG?! Ugh. Hopefully it'll get more lighthearted soon. I have a fun chapter planned for you guys after all this weird toxic angsty-ness.

Adrien may or may not make a reappearance someday.

If you want to read the scene where Oshitari gives Minako the "romance novel" for White Day, go to TCAFS chapter 30.

Guyyyyyys review! Because reviews give me muse and I write faster and stuff. Yeaaaaaah.


	5. Act II, Scene II

Apparently the Prince of Tennis Wiki is wrong. Oshitari only has one older sister, named Erina. Oh well.

Taiwan was awesome you guys. Just awesome.

**Dedicated to:** coffeelatte and The Jabberer, because there is some sex in this chapter. Sort of.

Also, coffeelatte helped write the Atobe scene because she's amazing and credit given where credit is due xDDDD

Guys I'm slowing catching up to IAG's timeline I'm so happyyyy

This chapter has a heavy T rating, just so you know.

**~x~**

_Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;_

_Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;_

_Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears._

_What is it else? A madness most discreet,_

_A choking gall, and a preserving sweet._

-William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

**~x~**

"I heard about Miss Shigohara's ankle injury," Oshitari's father said when he finally returned home that day. "I trust the doctors at the hospital took care of her?"

"They did. She was in good hands."

Oshitari Eiji nodded once. "By the way, there's a nice picture of you two on the internet." He swiveled the computer screen around to show him. A well-known gossip blog had posted a picture of Yuushi and Minako together, with her huddled in his arms. Thankfully, the photographer had cropped her ankle out. "You two make a very attractive couple."

Yuushi's smile was rather bland.

His father turned the computer screen back around, clicking his mouse a few times. "Your relationship seems to be progressing well."

"It is. It will be one month on Wednesday."

"Is that so." His father contemplated this for a moment. Then, said slowly and deliberately, "I wonder if she knows anything about Shigohara Enterprises stealing our technology…"

Yuushi frowned. "Father," he said. "You know I can't ask her something like that."

"I'm not saying you should _ask_ her. And she wouldn't tell you either way." As he spoke, his father arranged some of his pens on the table in perfect parallel rows. "I'm just saying, if you happen to be over at the Shigohara residence… you could look around."

"You mean '_snoop_'." There was no distaste in Yuushi's voice, just mild disbelief.

"Well, anything in plain sight is fair game, isn't it?" At his son's expression, his father sighed wearily. "You know that Shigohara Noburu stole our fMRI technology."

"There's not a doubt in my mind." The family company had developed an advanced machine for taking images of the brain activity. However, only a month before they were set to release it, Shigohara Enterprises came out with their own model – a model that was exactly the same. "But Father," Yuushi continued. "We've always been above things like this."

The Oshitaris had always had a moral compass. Done things legally, by the book. It was a point of pride for them.

"We have. It's gotten us nowhere."

Just then, the door opened, and his younger sister entered. "Oh!" Oshitari Erina said, halting. "Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all. Yuushi and I were just finishing up our talk." His father fixed a stare on him. "Do what you think is right. I trust you to use your own judgment, son."

Yuushi wished he wouldn't.

**~x~**

Atobe had to admit, he was more than a little pleased when he saw Shigohara limping to class on Monday. When he found Nanao on Saturday, stood up and alone, she looked so desolate and _heartbroken_ that Atobe's dislike of Shigohara flared to new levels of hatred.

And then he'd gotten that damn text from Yuushi that was all, "Oh, Minako twisted her ankle so I stood Nanao up because I'm an insensitive bastard who will do anything for a pretty pair of legs."

(Okay, maybe that wasn't the _exact _wording of the text… but it was pretty much the gist of it.)

Well, he had been so unbelievably _furious_ that if Shigohara showed up with any less of an injury, he would be tempted to break her leg himself.

At least, right now, he could milk her misery for all it was worth.

As she made to enter the classroom, he deliberately stepped in her way. "Dancing mishap, I heard?" he said, trying not to sound too gleeful over her misfortune.

He took great delight in the sour expression on her face. She replied tersely, "Something of the sort."

"Does Matoko know yet?"

"No."

"She's going to be pissed. You have terrible timing."

'_Actually,_' Minako thought bitterly. '_I have great timing. If I didn't, this wouldn't have happened._' Her mood, which had been rather awful to begin with, was taking a turn for the worse.

Needless to say, Atobe was not helping.

"Going into the Kantou tournament without their captain…" Atobe smirked. "One has to wonder how your team will fare."

"My team will fare quite well, thank you," Minako shot back with a frigid smile. "Unlike _your_ team, we aren't in the habit of losing in the first round."

Atobe felt his own lip curl.

"Now," she said pointedly. "If you'll _excuse _me." He unwillingly stepped to the side, and she swept past him as gracefully as she could on one leg.

**~x~**

"You," Rie growled later that afternoon. Her hands were on her hips, and she looked positively livid. "You can't play tennis."

Minako arranged her bound ankle to the side delicately. "You've always been good at stating the obvious."

Her golden eyes flashed with irritation. "How much longer until you can play?"

_A week._ She smoothed her skirt down."A few more days."

"Then you're going to miss the Kantou tournament opening matches."

"Again, stating the obvious."

Rie clenched her teeth together. "I can't _believe_ you let this happen. You're the one who was telling us not to get injured before the Kantou tournament."

"It wasn't my fault." _Except it was. It was all her fault, wasn't it? She brought this on herself. _"And it's not like it's the finals."

A vein pulsed in Rie's neck, but the tall vice-captain only pursed her lips. "Fine," she said shortly. "It's not like there's anything we can do about it. What do you want to do about the lineup?"

Minako lifted her shoulder in an indifferent shrug, as if she couldn't be concerned with such trivial matters. "Put Kurakano in singles one."

"Kurakano nearly lost to that little Ryuzaki twig from Seigaku. You want me to put her in _singles one?_"

"Rie," Minako said in clipped tones, and Rie bristled. "This is the first round of the Kantou tournament. I don't expect us to drop a single game, much less a match." Her gaze was pure ice. "Kurakano will not even need to step onto the court."

Her vice-captain nearly took a step back. It was funny how a girl with a crippled ankle could make her feel so powerless, Rie thought to herself. Shigohara Minako could be in a full body cast and it would not make her any less intimidating. "You should just come and glare at the other team," said the vice-captain, unable to resist a smile. "I bet you could scare them into forfeiting."

At the compliment, the look in her eyes didn't _soften_, per say… but thawed, just for a brief moment. It froze up again almost instantly. "Hey. You," Minako called to a non-regular walking by.

"Yes, Shigohara-buchou?" A first year, Matsuno, trotted over timidly.

"Go tell Gamaro that her footwork is sloppy."

The poor first-year girl looked shell-shocked. "Wh-what? You want _me _to—" At Minako's expression, she froze and clammed up. Stammered, "Yes, buchou..." and fearfully headed over to the regular in question.

Rie hid a grin. "Well, I've got drills to lead. I'll leave you to your psychological warfare, shall I?" She started toward the first years.

From the court, Gamaro gave poor Matsuno a cutting response, causing her to run for the locker room in tears.

Gamaro, on the other hand, stalked right over to where Minako was sitting.

"Buchou. The _hell_ was that. If you've got a problem with my footwork—"

"No, _you_ have a problem with your footwork," Minako said, studying a fingernail disinterestedly. "Or weren't you listening?"

"So you had a _first year_ come and tell me that?" Gamaro practically spat. "Why didn't you just tell me yourself?"

"In case you haven't noticed," Minako said, dripping venom. "I am somewhat handicapped right now. But I understand how hearing it from a first-year was embarrassing." Her lip curled maliciously. "Next time, I'll be sure to shout it across the courts instead."

With a snarl, Gamaro turned on her heel and stomped back onto the court. Minako felt a light thrill of satisfaction.

"My, my. Aren't we in a bad mood today?" came a rolling drawl from behind her.

"My mood is perfectly acceptable," she retorted without looking at him. "Given the circumstances."

He draped himself over the back of the bench so that his head was next to hers. "Seriously, though," he said quietly, the teasing note disappearing. "How are you doing?"

She stared ahead stonily. "It is how it is_._"

'_This is all my fault. I did this. I did this to myself.'_ And she _knew_ that it was all her fault, that she had no one else to blame. But that didn't make it any easier to bear.

If anything, it made it even worse.

"Minako-chan," Oshitari said plaintively. "You know I don't like seeing you unhappy."

"Then," she said coldly, and threw him a steely glare. "_Leave_."

She was well aware how ungrateful she was being. She had absolutely no right to snap at him, of all people. He'd been there for her, taken care of her. Forgiven her.

But that despicable thought in her mind reared its ugly head, '_If it weren't for you, this wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't have done this to myself._'

And she was upset. She just needed to release all this pent-up frustration somehow. She needed to find an outlet for her irritation. She needed to take her anger out on _someone, something. _Lash out at something.

She needed to _play tennis_.

And she couldn't even do _that._

"As you wish," he responded easily. "But just so you know…" He touched her shoulder gently. "I'm here."

**~x~**

"No."

"Keigo, you know I wouldn't ask if it weren't important—"

"No."

"But it would only be for a few hours—"

"No."

"I can assure you that nothing will—"

"_No._ How many times do I have to tell you? Elizabeth the Third does not leave the house without me."

From his affectionate and protective tone, one might think that Atobe was talking about his youngest cousin (who incidentally, did have British Royalty in her veins), his chocolate Labrador, or even his show pony (his equestrian skills were _quite_ admirable), but no –

Elizabeth the Third happened to be a black Lamborghini.

Oshitari raised an amused eyebrow. "You named it?"

"_Her._ And yes." Atobe said it like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Elizabeth the Third."

"_The third_?" Suzuki Nanao repeated incredulously.

"The third."

"There were two others?"

Atobe gave an imperious sniff. "There were three others. But we don't talk about the second one."

**~x~**

About an hour later, Minako was still in a very foul mood. But she'd finally found an outlet for all of that repressed rage.

It was called 'suicides.'

And the whole team was being forced to run them.

While she watched.

As the regulars sprinted by her, some of them (namely Rie) shot her reproachful glances. Minako idly picked at a hangnail. "Your pace is dropping. The last ten people to finish will do the exercise again."

This was met with groans and the quickening of footsteps. Minako took a vindictive sort of pleasure in their suffering. It almost _lightened_ her mood.

"So, Minako-buchou." Fuuma Eri, a 3rd year regular, leaned against the bannister next to her, taking a long drink from her water battle. "I'm guessing the ankle isn't the only thing you're upset about, is it?" As the number two seed in Hyotei, she'd been the first to finish her suicides.

Eri was the only person on the team that had to privilege to address Minako by her given name. Though Matoko Rie was her vice-captain, Fuuma Eri was her right-hand girl.

Eri was also impossible to be angry at. Her nature was far too mild for that kind of thing.

Minako debated on whether or not to ignore her, but ended up saying quietly, "You're right. I'm upset at a lot of things."

Eri continued to drink from her water bottle, but had an azure eye trained on her.

"I just…" Minako exhaled. Resisted the urge to throw up her hands, and instead clasped them behind her back. "Don't you ever get sick of walking along the path?" Being told what you could and could not do. Never being allowed to stray.

She did not need to respond. Her blank, bitter smile said it all.

As bad as Minako had it at home, she knew Eri had it ten times worse. Eri may have never been used for her attractiveness (_'Pity Fuuma Yoshino's daughter isn't prettier,_' her mother used to say. '_Or else he could triple his net worth just by marrying her off._'), but she had a different set of sky-high expectations to adhere to.

It was also a well-known fact that Eri's mother was abusive.

_Your finger slipped on the second scale, Eri. You think Mozart made such stupid mistakes when he played?_

_Ranked number 6__th__? Even your little brother could do better than that._

_Don't look so pleased, Minako. That last pirouette combination was abysmal – do it again. Now._

And even though Minako and Eri were extremely different people, they were also one and the same.

They both played tennis for the same reason.

For release.

In their lives where so little was under their control, at least they could control _this._ They could set the pace of the game, control their opponent, making them play _their game_, play _their way._

It wasn't enough, but it was _something. _Something for them to hold onto.

"Then, do something out of the box today," Eri suddenly said, an answer to a question Minako wasn't even aware she'd asked.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, baffled.

Eri retied her blond ponytail. She always used her stunning blond hair to hide her homely face. "You can't play tennis," she said, adjusting the long tendrils around her face. "So do something new. Do something stupid."

Minako tossed her own hair back. "I don't do stupid things."

Aside from dislocating her ankle. That was definitely not one of her finest moments.

Eri raised an eyebrow. "Exactly."

**~x~**

After practice had ended, Minako made her way to the school gates to be picked up. Her mother was expecting her home. Minako wasn't sure what her mother wanted, but she knew that she was not looking forward to it.

Her mother had been completely unsympathetic over her dislocated ankle. She was more upset over the week's worth of ballet practice that Minako would miss.

She probably wanted Minako home so she could lecture her on her carelessness. Or to brag about how she seduced her latest victim into Shigohara Noburu's corporate trap. Neither sounded like a very good option.

Minako sighed, having resigned herself to an unfortunate afternoon of listening to her mother's ramblings…

When a sleek black car pulled over next to her, the tinted window rolling down to reveal one Oshitari Yuushi. "Hello, milady. Care to go for a ride?"

In a Lamborghini, no less.

"_Yuushi_?"

Reaching out the window, he patted the side of the car smugly. "You told me last week that you've always wanted to drive one of these."

"What?" Minako felt her jaw slacken. "How did you even…"

"Shhh…" Oshitari pressed a secretive finger to his lips. "Don't ask dumb questions, Minako. Just get in the car."

She almost laughed in pure disbelief. "I have plans! I'm not getting into a strange car with you, even if it _is…_" She hesitated, running a hand along the streamlined exterior, and he smirked. "…A Lamborghini…"

'_Do something new. Do something stupid._'

"The inside is even nicer than the outside, by the way," he murmured enticingly. Minako craned her neck slightly, catching a glimpse of plush, cream leather seats. How on earth did he even get this car? The Oshitaris were well off, (more than well off), but even they weren't the kind to drop 800,000 dollars on a vehicle.

"I can't…" Minako sounded like she was trying to convince herself. "Mother's expecting me…" Her hand, however, appeared to be glued to the smooth metal. She could feel the engine humming deliciously under her hand.

'_You can't play tennis. So do something new._'

With every touch of the car's sleek frame, he could sense her wavering, her resolve cracking. "Come on," he coaxed. "You know you want to."

"No," she decided firmly, retracting her hand. "I'm not getting in. I don't know _where_ you managed to get this car, but—"

"I may have stolen it from Atobe—"

He did not need to say another word. "Hand over the keys," she said immediately, "I'll drive."

**~x~**

They were already on the road by the time he thought to ask, "By the way, Minako, do you know _how_ to drive?"

A pause.

"I played Mario Kart once when I was little."

Another pause.

"It's pretty much the same thing," Oshitari agreed, surreptitiously reaching for the child safety harness.

**~x~**

Meanwhile, at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, Officer Matsumoto had just received the most disturbing phone call.

"THEY'VE TAKEN HER! THEY'VE TAKEN ELIZABETH THE THIRD!"

The call was to a specialized private line, meaning it could only be one person. "Is this Atobe-bocchama? Atobe-bocchama, can you calm down and tell me what happened?" The Atobes were generous donors to the police department.

"I just- I came back home and she was _gone—_"

Officer Matsumoto lifted his walkie talkie to his lips. "Kidnapping," he confirmed. "Code yellow."

"Atobe-bocchama, can you describe Elizabeth for me?"

"She's black and the most beautiful thing in the world and _why aren't you out looking for her_—"

"We'll do everything we can. Have you seen her with any suspicious people lately?"

A pause, and then a low snarl. "…Yuushi. That fucking traitor_._" Click.

"Hello? Atobe-bocchama? Hello?"

**~x~**

"I never thought you would be such an… _assertive_ driver, Minako."

She cut through a lane in the road, narrowly dodging a motorcyclist. "If by '_assertive_', you mean '_horrible_'…" she warned.

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"I don't need to imply anything." His lips twitched. "Your driving speaks for itself."

"Careful, Yuushi. You might want to avoid insulting me when I'm behind the wheel. I could kill you."

"Trust me," Oshitari said as she weaved to the left, jerking him in his seat. "I'm well aware of that fact." Glancing at his phone, he said, "By the way, you should turn right over there."

Minako swerved, knocking him into the right window.

By some God's blessing, the roads were mostly clear at this time. Oshitari silently said a quick prayer of thanks. Suddenly, his ringtone went off. "Oh, look who's calling."

He held the phone away from his ear as Atobe's voice exploded from the speaker "_Yuushi, you bastard. You bring Elizabeth back this instant! I am going to destroy you—_"

"Oh is this Keigo? I'm sorry, I can't seem to hear you over the roar of this Lamborghini."

"_HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME—_"

"Minako dear, I think that was a red light."

"Was it?" Minako said apathetically, without lifting her foot from the accelerator. "Oops."

"_IS THAT DEVIL WOMAN DRIVING ELIZABETH-"_

"Now now, Keigo, don't be rude. She's just—" He looked up, and calmly said, "Red light."

She slammed on the brakes to a cacophony of honking.

"_I WILL KILL YOU, YUUSHI—"_

"Oh, don't worry," Oshitari said pleasantly into the phone. "I think Minako's driving will take of that."

"_I WILL MURDER YOU BOTH. I DON'T CARE IF IT MEANS WE LOSE NATIONALS THIS YEAR—"_

"Do shut up, Atobe," Minako said with a wicked grin. "I'm driving."

**~x~**

_Twenty Minutes later…_

"Yuushi?"

"Hmm?"

The car slowed to a stop in the middle of the empty highway road. It was hush-quiet, save for the wind rustling through the trees. She looked around bewilderedly. "Where _are_ we?"

He consulted his phone. "Three more miles. It should be right up ahead."

"_What_ is right up ahead?"

"Our destination. But first…" He pressed a black button. The roof of the car whirred to life, sliding down to reveal that it was, indeed, a convertible. He glanced down the road and smirked. "There's no one here. Let's see how fast Elizabeth can go."

Minako began to smile.

She turned the key. The engine roared to life, growling beneath her feet like a beast. Her foot slammed against the gas pedal, and suddenly the car shot forward like a rocket ship.

The wind whipped through her hair, tangling the sepia-toned waves. The rush nearly stole the breath from her chest. Adrenaline sizzled through her veins, the kind that she usually only felt when she was playing tennis, playing a worthy opponent.

Here she was, driving an $800,000 stolen Lamborghini down a highway, at a hundred miles an hour, and she didn't even know _how_ to drive and—

She felt a laugh rising in her throat, just from the absurdity of it all. "Yuushi, you are just _ridiculous,_" she said, and that was when she started to laugh.

Her lungs were filled with breathless, dusky, throaty _laughter._

Oshitari looked at her in astonishment.

Too many times he'd seen the strain behind her fake smile. Too many times there was a weight behind her laughter, like if she stopped, she could burst into tears. Sometimes the silvery musicality in her fake laughter made him want to wince.

He didn't know she could laugh like this. Freely. Openly. The kind of ugly-pretty laughter that made you gasp for air, that made your diaphragm ache beneath your lungs.

And he thought, _this is what a laugh should sound like._

In that moment, he wondered what he wouldn't give to hear her laugh like that again.

**~x~**

_Escape_, was all she could think when they finally arrived at their destination.

_This is an escape._

They were leaning against the hood of the car, which was parked somewhere off the highway. They appeared to be on the edge of a cliff. Beneath them were miles and miles of blue, blue ocean.

She could hear the crashing and rolling of the waves below, like an ocean lullaby.

"It's a beautiful place, Yuushi."

"It is." He inhaled the salty sea air. "Keigo was the one that told me about it."

"And…" Minako said wryly, "You just ruined it for me."

He had to hide his grin. "My most sincere apologies."

His voice, she suddenly noticed, reminded her of the ocean. Deep and rolling and soothing.

She shook her head, half in disbelief and half in wonder. "I can't believe you did this."

"Well. I don't like seeing you unhappy."

Something passed between them. He saw it flicker across her face briefly. He wondered if that's how she dealt with all unnecessary emotions. Caught them, like netting loose butterflies, and boxed them neatly away in some crevice of her heart.

"Are you planning to pull something like this every time I'm upset?" Minako asked lightly, breaking the serious moment. She stretched and added offhandedly, "Because I've always wanted to fly a Gundam. Just so you now."

He chuckled. "That may be a little out of my area of influence, but I could make a few calls."

She laughed a little. Bumped her shoulder against his. "Hey."

_Thank you._

He smiled. "Well," he said indolently, a moment later. "It's a pity Romeo and Juliet doesn't have a beach cliff scene."

She rolled her eyes.

"But there's one in _The Dark Rose_, with Amari-chan and Ginta-kun, if you remember?"

"I don't. I've already scoured that filth from my mind."

"Even that heartbreaking scene where Amari-chan tells Ginta-kun about her illness?" He clasped a hand to his heart. "Against the sunset, where Ginta-kun tells her that's she's his soul mate and swears that they'll find a way for their love—"

"How do you not get cavities just from _saying_ that crap?"

"It's a story of true love!" he insisted teasingly. "Don't be so heartless."

He knew something was wrong the minute the words left his mouth. Her expression changed in a flash – her lips parted and her eyes widened in such obvious _hurt_ that she looked like he'd actually _hit _her. A second later, her jaw was locking and her face was closing up in silent, calm sort of fury.

"Minako," he said, and he wanted to reach out and hold her, but she'd closed herself off, almost as if she was emitting some sort of icy, untouchable, hostile aura_._ "Minako, I'm sorry. What's wrong? What did I say wrong?"

She turned away to stare into the distance. "It's nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing."

"It doesn't matter. Forget about it."

"No." He hesitated, then placed a hand on her shoulder. "Not until you tell me what's wrong. _Please._"

"I just…" She shrugged his hand off, fixing her icy stare on a distant cloud. "I don't like that word."

_Heartless._

He let his hand fall to his side.

She continued to look ahead at nothing, her eyes distant and unfocused, and he just looked at her in shock and remorse.

She acted so aloof and flippant most of the time, that it was so easy to forget that she could also be incredibly sensitive. Incredibly vulnerable.

A moment later, he said quietly, "Your father called you that, didn't he." It was not a question.

More silence. Then a slow, curt nod. "He uses it as a compliment."

_Heartless. You're a heartless woman, Minako. Ruthless, cold to the core. That's how you will succeed in this world._

'_Heartless_', in her father's dictionary, was synonymous with '_strong_.'

Oshitari reached for her hand, placing his on top of hers. Said earnestly, "You know I didn't mean anything by it."

"I know."

"I'm a fool for referring to you with anything but the highest form of praise."

She resisted the urge to scoff. "It's just that one word. I don't care what else you call me. You can call me anything you want."

"Really?" His grin was lopsided and lazy. "So, if I wanted to call you _'pooky bear_'_…"_

At her look of unadulterated horror, he had to laugh. Before long, she was smiling too, the tension disappearing from her face like a tide receding. He breathed a small sigh of relief.

"I still can't believe you did this," she said, looking back at the ocean. The sun was starting to set, painting the sky in an iridescent rosy glow. Some seagulls were flying across the sky, the sun outlining their white feathers with gold. "I don't think anyone has ever done something like this for me."

There had been boys in the past. Many boys. Boys who brought her flowers and chocolates, boys who recited love poems, boys who held her hand and stroked her hair, boys who'd been free with their kisses, freer with their touches.

Never had there been a boy who would commit grand larceny just to make her smile.

"Yuushi," she said simply. Softly, like an angel's breath.

He turned to her, and she kissed him.

It was different from all the other times they'd kissed. It _felt_ different.

The first time had been because of desire.

The second time had been for publicity (and a little bit of desire.)

The third time? Drunken desire.

This time, the kiss meant something. What, she didn't know. But _something._

And he must've felt it too, because he pulled away for a moment, just to look into her eyes, searching her gaze, as if to say '_Is this okay?_''

Her response was to pull him back, kissing him again, lips locking against his in unsaid _I'm sorrys _and _thank yous_ and other messages that she couldn't even bring herself to think.

Without breaking from the kiss, he rose to cup the back of her neck, pressing her against the sun-warmed hood of the car.

Her hand went to the back of his head, fingers tangled in his blue strands, pulling him down. She snatched off his glasses and tossed them aside. Her kisses got rougher, lips biting and clashing. He tasted of the ocean, and for a moment, she felt like she could drown in all of this.

He tilted her head back to press his lips against her jawline. He trailed hot kisses down the side of her neck, nipping down when he reached her collarbone, smirking against her skin as she made a breathless noise.

'_Take what you can,' _she wanted to gasp in his ear. '_Take what you can, because god knows I can't give you what you really want._'

His fingers slipped under her blouse, skimmed over the bare-bones of her ribcage, dangerously close to her heart. One hand squeezed her supple calf, before sliding to her mid-thigh where her stocking ended, circling the naked skin there. Her head was spinning with gratitude and wonder and wanting – wanting, wanting.

Oh, he was good at this, Oshitari was.

He was _good_.

It was such an odd realization to have, but the moment the thought entered her mind, it took ahold of her. Guilt grabbed her heart with its nasty claws.

"Yuushi."

His eyes flew to her face.

She bit her lip. **'**_You are too good to me. Too good. And I don't deserve you._'

But she couldn't tell him, couldn't ever tell him. What did that make her? Cowardly? Despicable?

_Heartless_?

Instead, she smiled weakly and said, "This car is burning in a hole into my back."

He chuckled, his hot breath against her skin. "Good point," he murmured reluctantly, rolling off of her. "We should probably be getting back. I'm sure Keigo's about to launch a helicopter search party for his beloved Elizabeth."

**~x~**

_A few hours later…_

"Keigo-bocchama. We've recovered Elizabeth the third."

"Get it valeted. Tell them to disinfect every inch of it." He didn't want to know what unspeakable things had been done behind her doors.

His butler nodded and proceeded to follow his orders.

"Oh and one more thing."

"Yes, Keigo-bocchama?"

"Find me a priest. I may need to perform an exorcism."

**~x~**

**End Chapter Five**

REVIEW? Squeeee.

Also, I posted some accompanying images on the tcafs08 tumblr.

I'm glad I could fit Fuuma Eri into this fic somehow. Yay.

One more chapter, and then IAG and YWISSG should be on the same timeline.

What do you guys think? Should I rewrite the double date scene in IAG? It was pretty Minako-heavy already, so I'm not sure if there's a need to.


	6. Act II, Scene III

**A/N: **Guys I'm sorry this chapter is so terrible.

Dedicated to Lahdolphin. And to coffeelatte and The Jabberer, because sex.

Also, there are some spoilers from the 1996 Romeo + Juliet film. Sorry.

There will be timeline inconsistencies between this fic and It's All Greek, but overlook them, please! Thank you!

This chapter tackles the double date scene in IAG's chapter 21, but from Nanao's point of view. Sort of.

**~x~**

_But to be frank, and give it thee again._

_And yet I wish but for the thing I have._

_My bounty is as boundless as the sea,_

_My love as deep. The more I give to thee,_

_The more I have, for both are infinite._

\- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

**~x~**

Shishido watched the two of them, a towel over his neck. "So, they _are_ dating again."

"But are they _dating_ dating?" Rie asked.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, they never hold hands, or kiss in public, except that one time, or… I don't know." Rie shrugged. "They don't act like Atobe and his girlfriend."

At this, all of them swiveled their heads around to look at Atobe and Suzuki. He'd sat down next to her to tenderly press a kiss against her forehead.

"They do _that,_ though," Ayumi pointed out, and all of them turned back around. Minako had leaned over to trace her finger down Oshitari's jawline.

"But they've _always_ done that."

Omae tossed a ball up. "Shigohara-buchou is a bit of a flirt, sometimes."

Shishido said scornfully, "When there's something in it for her."

"Shishido-san," Choutarou reprimanded.

"Maybe they're just hooking up." Taki shrugged. "She's hot. I'd do it."

Eri stifled a giggle. "She's out of your league, Taki. Right, Munehiro-kun?"

"Usu," came Kabaji's deep voice from behind him.

"Seriously, Kabaji?!" Taki said indignantly.

Eri reached up to pat Kabaji's shoulder fondly.

"Though, if I were a dude," Gamaro declared, "I wouldn't date Shigohara-buchou. She seems like she'd be a man-eater."

Mukahi snorted. "Yuushi sure has some weird kinks."

"You would know," Rie said, and proceeded to dodge the tennis ball that was thrown at her face.

**~x~**

Wednesday morning, she walked into her classroom and could immediately sense Oshitari smiling broadly from across the room.

That was never a good sign.

He approached her desk, leaning over with air of smugness.

Once she could no longer ignore it, she snapped _Romeo and Juliet_ shut. "That grin of yours is exceptionally creepy today."

His smile did not budge. "Have you realized what day it is?"

She arched a brow. "Wednesday?"

"Today is our one month anniversary. Which means…" He paused dramatically. "The wager is up."

'_Oh_,' she thought. '_Crap._' No _wonder_ he was so smug.

They had bet on her being able to end this relationship after a month. If she could, then he'd have to wear a ballerina tutu to his next official tennis match. If she couldn't, he had her to himself for an evening, with an activity of his choosing.

"Well, Minako-chan?" he prompted. His gaze was challenging. "You could still end things now."

She weighed her options. She certainly could break it off now, and she doubted that he would hold it against her. But her father had made it clear that he was in charge of this whole operation, and she was hesitant to do anything without his explicit instruction.

And, well… she was a bit curious of what she'd gotten herself into.

"No," she finally said, with an air of resignation. "You win." She spread her hands. "I'm yours for an evening."

His grin, if possible, got even wider. "Excellent."

"An evening that falls within a PG-13 rating," she reminded him sharply.

He waved a hand. "Details, details."

"Well, that's settled." She pinned him with a look, her fingers locked beneath her chin. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

He leaned even closer, their noses almost touching. "You tell me."

Her lips curved up into a smile.

But just as he tried to close the distance between them, she pushed the book into his cheek. He chuckled despite himself.

It'd almost become a ritual for the two of them. He kept pursuing her, and she kept waving away his affections. While they were at Hyotei, they kept PDA to a certain minimum.

She had a certain "clean" reputation to protect, but moreso than that, she had her _image: _Shigohara Minako, captain of the girls' tennis team, ice-queen of Hyotei, couldn't very well be seen acting like some sort of love-sick fool, now could she? And, by nature, she just wasn't a very affectionate person.

Oshitari, on the other hand, was more than affectionate enough for the both of them.

When they were in private, she just went with the flow. If he wanted to steal a kiss behind the locker rooms (or two, or three), she was willing to oblige. It was probably the least she could do, anyways.

But as long as they were among their peers, they maintained a flirtatious distance.

So, according to the rumor-mill at Hyotei – yes, Oshitari Yuushi and Shigohara Minako were dating again. Whether or not they were in a relationship was up for interpretation.

**~x~**

Oshitari meant to collect the winnings of his bet as soon as possible.

But as it turned out, the next few weeks were extraordinarily busy.

Oshitari had recently begun an apprenticeship at one of his father's hospitals. When he wasn't working or involved with that, his hands were full with the latest Keigo-Nanao drama. (Seriously, the two could have their own soap opera.)

Minako's concentration was otherwise occupied by tennis. Her girls swept through the Kanto regionals until they met Rikkai in the semifinals, where they lost rather badly in the first four sets. She didn't even get to step onto the court.

And then she was upset again (rightfully so, in her opinion), and Oshitari chose to counteract this by taking her go-cart racing one Saturday morning, one of the only days they were both free.

"_Where your driving won't accidentally kill anyone," _he'd said.

(She'd challenged this by ramming his go-cart into the wall.)

By the time either of them had a free evening, it had been several weeks later. Minako found that she was actually looking forward to whatever activity he had arranged. Not that she would ever admit it, but he'd been most secretive about his plans, which had made her increasingly curious as to what they were.

But then Atobe's aunt had gotten into that car accident.

Oshitari had turned to her, and politely asked if she wouldn't mind postponing their evening together, once again.

She'd sighed exasperatedly, but relented without an argument. She didn't like Atobe, but that didn't mean that she wished him this sort of pain.

No one should have to deal with that alone.

When school ended that day, Oshitari went to the florist and arranged an apology bouquet (of hyacinths, per Nanao's suggestion) to be sent to the Shigohara residence. Then, he had his chauffeur take him to a liquor store.

**~x~**

It was not the first time Oshitari showed up on Atobe's doorstep, unannounced, with two bottles of vodka.

He could barely even remember when the ritual started. It must've been sometime after Atobe started getting involved with his father's business. There'd been one night when he was compiling reports and was completely _stressed out of his mind— _and he and Oshitari discovered something to numb the stress.

That's when it all began. They didn't drink like that often – only when they really, _really_ needed it.

They drank when Oshitari's mother nearly made him quit tennis to focus on the violin, when Atobe delivered "sub-par" fiscal reports to his father.

They'd both drunk like sailors when Hyotei lost to Seigaku in the National tournament.

Now Atobe watched the stream of clear liquid fall as Oshitari poured, eyes gleaming eagerly, as if welcoming home an old friend.

They clinked their small glasses together.

They didn't talk about Atobe's aunt. They didn't even talk about Atobe's father, which was usually a typical topic of conversation during their binge drinking sessions.

Instead, they talked about the more shallow, frivolous topics. Tennis, Gakuto's strange obsession with the Seigaku acrobat, Choutarou's upcoming performance in the concours...

Oshitari considered asking him about his relationship with Nanao (and whether it was a relationship or not at this point), but decided that it might be too soon. They were still on tender ground.

Before long, Atobe finally asked him, "How are things going with you and _her_?"

Oshitari smiled at Atobe's blatant aversion to even saying Minako's name. "They are… they're going, I suppose you could say."

He threw him a dirty look for the vague answer. "Hmph. Are you two exclusive now?"

He swirled the liquid in his glass around. "Well… I'm not sure. We never discussed it upfront." Took a sip, and sighed. "I suppose I can't assume that we are, but it really doesn't bother me either way."

Atobe stared him down, and said bluntly, "Bullshit."

Oshitari paused.

"I know you better than that. You deserve better." There was an audible tremor of anger in his voice. "You should _demand_ better."

He shrugged lightly, carelessly. "Maybe."

_Maybe._

'_Keigo,_' Oshitari thought with a strain of bitterness. '_You can't assume that I deserve any better.'_

Silence descended upon them as they each took another drink.

"You know," Atobe said after a long moment. "There are plenty of other girls out there who wouldn't be half as much trouble."

"Did it ever occur to you that I might _enjoy_ the trouble?"

He shook his head disgustedly. "You. You geniuses and your utter crap. I just don't get it."

Oshitari held up his small glass. "And you never will."

They both took a shot.

**~x~**

There were a few things that Minako did before getting into bed at night.

She swam twenty laps in her Olympic sized pool for conditioning purposes. While many tennis players chose to jog, Minako preferred to swim. It was less sweaty that way.

She took a shower, brushed her teeth, and did all the normal hygienic routines one did before bed.

Finally, she moisturized her hands.

Her mother had always told her that a woman's hands were the first area to show signs of aging and had lectured her endlessly to take care of them. When Minako had displayed a row of callouses from swinging her tennis racket, her mother had cringed like she'd been slapped.

So ever since then, before she went to sleep, Minako would sit in bed for a good ten minutes, slathering a thick, expensive cream over her hands.

She was fairly certain that she had the smoothest, softest hands of anyone on the high school tennis circuit.

Once her hands were moisturized, she would not touch anything else. She would not do anything else. It was like she put on magical sleeping gloves. She would go straight to sleep.

That night, when her phone rang, she had just finished massaging her hand cream into her hands. She rolled her eyes and ignored it.

It rang again.

She ignored it.

Five seconds later, it rang again.

There was only one person who was this persistent. With a huff of breath, she pressed her elbow into the phone to answer it. "_Yes_, Yuushi?"

"Hey, Juliet. Come downstairs."

"What?" she asked, glancing at the giant grandfather clock in her room. "It's nearly midnight, Yuushi." '_And I just moisturized my hands,_' she wanted to add, but she wasn't sure he'd understand.

"But I want to see you."

She paused. His words weren't slurred, per say. But peculiarly loose. "Yuushi, are you _drunk_?" she asked disbelievingly.

She could practically hear him smirk into the phone. "Just come downstairs."

After a brief hesitation, she crawled out of bed. A drunk Oshitari was too tempting to see. She threw a silk robe over her nightgown, and descended the staircase. "My god, you _are _drunk," she said upon seeing him. He appeared collected and composed, but she could see the bloodshot eyes behind his glasses. He also _reeked_ of alcohol.

He leaned forward to kiss her briefly.

She pulled away, laughing. "I feel like I'm going to get drunk just from kissing you."

"More reason to kiss me again," he murmured, leaning in. "I know how you get when you're drunk."

She ducked away. "What on earth did you do today, anyways?"

"I may have brought some vodka over to Keigo's."

"And then what? You guys took a bath in it?"

He rubbed his head tiredly. "It's a possibility. Everything is sort of a blur." He smirked. "Why? Does that idea excite you? Because I could arrange—"

"You wish," she scoffed. "I got the flowers, by the way." She gestured at the giant bouquet that was next to the staircase. "They're nice. But why hyacinths, of all things?" The purple flowers looked ridiculous, bunched together like that. Almost like shoots of cotton candy.

Hyacinths should not be made into a bouquet. Not ever.

He hid a grin. "It's kind of an inside joke..."

"Well next time, get me roses. Stick to the clichés." She tilted her head, a charming smile on her lips. "I'm a fairly easy woman to please."

"Au contraire, milady." He caught her hand, kissed the inside of her wrist. "You are most difficult to please. I think you enjoy making men work for your pleasure."

"For someone so drunk, you seem to be very eloquent." After a moment, she sighed. "Come on." She took his hand, linking his fingers within hers, and pulled him upstairs. "You can't stay here like this. My parents would flip if they saw you."

Ten minutes later, they were sitting on a loveseat in her room, with a full, British-style tea service before them. The chef had even rustled up some homemade scones and biscuits.

"Eat," she commanded. "Or else you'll feel like crap tomorrow."

"I already feel like crap." He took a sip of the tea and nearly spat it out. "What is in here?" he demanded, peering into the cup.

"Don't ask," Minako responded, scrutinizing the contents of the teapot. "It's my grandmother's hangover cure. I think she has half a dozen different herbs in there."

He made a face, setting the cup down. "I think I would prefer the hangover."

"I can't believe you were stupid enough to drink on an empty stomach. Eat." She picked up one of the scones, holding it out to him.

There was a flirtatious twinkle in his eye. "Only if you'll feed me."

She almost hurled the scone at his face. Instead, she exhaled huffily, and broke off a corner, holding it up to his lips. "You really aren't any different when you're drunk, are you?" She didn't realize it was possible for him to be even _more_ amorous than he already was.

He took the piece in his mouth, catching her fingers briefly between his lips.

Her eyes narrowed as she retracted her hand. "Nice try, Yuushi."

He smiled innocently. "I'm still hungry."

Minako put the entire scone in his mouth. "There. Eat."

"You know," he complained, taking the scone out of his mouth. "I think I like you better when you're drunk."

"_I_ like you better when you're sober. Now, eat."

With a suffering sigh, he finished the scone. His stomach churned slightly, and he groaned, "Drinking this much was a mistake."

"Really?" Her voice was sweet with sarcasm. "Are you _sure_?"

He rubbed his head some more. It felt like someone took a jackhammer to his skull. "Well I suppose it was worth it," he muttered unconvincingly.

Minako rotated her cup between her hands. "How is Atobe?" she finally asked reluctantly. "Is he all right?"

Oshitari sighed, putting down his teacup gently. "He'll… be all right, I think. Nanao-chan's with him now. She'll take care of him."

She blinked. "Wait, I thought he and Suzuki broke up. Like, for _real._"

"They did."

"And then they got back together _again_?" She couldn't help the note of disdain that crept into her voice.

"Keigo is not known for his consistency."

"Why am I not surprised." She made a dissatisfied noise that sounded oddly like a snort.

Oshitari smiled slowly. "Hey, Minako-chan," he suddenly said, beckoning to her. "Come here."

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

He beckoned again. Said, "I want to tell you something."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm right here."

He kept inclining a finger.

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she leaned over. He took the opportunity to hook his arm behind her, pulling her into his lap.

"_Yuushi!_"

"Mmm…" he purred, his hands circling around her waist. "Much better."

She had to quell the indignant laughter in her throat. "If you weren't drunk, I'd hit you."

"Why is that stopping you?"

"In your current state, I doubt you'd feel it. I'll hit you later."

He laughed and tightened his arms around her, inhaling the scent of her. She smelled faintly of roses. Roses and something else, something spicier. Sandalwood, maybe? "Hey," he said into her hair. "I like you a lot."

"Mmhmm." She rolled her eyes again. "I think I got that."

He slid the back of his thumb up and down her thigh. "And…" he murmured. "How do you feel about me?"

She hated how just his touch could made her shiver. "I think," she managed to say calmly. "That you're all right."

He pressed a light kiss to the curve of her chin. Whispered, "Just all right?"

She suddenly lost her ability to speak. She could barely breathe. His lips were at her throat, tracing a tantalizing line downwards. "Just all right?" he murmured again, at the base of her neck.

Now she definitely couldn't breathe. A warm flush was creeping up her neck. Surely he could feel it to, this heat that was blossoming upwards, the blood that was rushing through her veins…

"I think," he continued, moving his lips to her ear. "That you like me."

"You flatter yourself too much," she mumbled back, but without her usual conviction.

He nibbled on her ear. "Do I?"

With every kiss and every touch, he was undoing her. She could feel it, feel it like she was coming apart. She'd felt it the first time they'd kissed, really _kissed,_ and ever since, she'd sealed off her mixed feelings, locked them up tight. Only let herself enjoy it on a purely physical level.

And so what if it was only physical? Physical things were good. They were meaningless. Uncomplicated. Tangible.

As long as they weren't _felt._ Not where it counted.

His tongue traced the shell of her ear. Her breaths were coming out short and uneven. If he was the one who was drunk, why did she feel so utterly intoxicated right now?

Then he pulled a lock of hair away from her ear. Whispered, "Be my girlfriend, Minako."

She pushed him away, more harshly than she meant to. "_No_."

Hurt flashed across his face.

"Oh, Yuushi," she said, feeling incredibly guilty. She kissed him, once, twice, and said gently, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then… what?"

"We can't._ I_ can't…" She halted.

"Can't what?" He sat up a little. For someone who's gaze was previously clouded and hazy from the alcohol, his eyes were now looking remarkably clear. "Can't what?"

She bit her lip and shook her head in quick little movements.

_We can't get in too deep. We're already too involved._

_Oh Yuushi, if only you knew._

"Minako—"

"Look," she cut in. "I like the way things are going. Let's just not put a label on it."

"But I like you," he said again, aware that now he just sounded whiny and sulky.

She kissed him again, lightly. Her hand traced her own jawline, before settling over her heart, reminding herself it was there, it was beating, beating, beating. "I know," she said softly, resignedly. "I know."

**~x~**

After that, she forced him to finish the herbal tea and eat a couple more pastries before sending him on his way.

The next day, he didn't mention their conversation. Whether he'd been so drunk that he forgot it happened, or just chose not to bring it up, she didn't know.

**~x~**

_The next day…_

"So, since you aren't busy tonight… I thought maybe we could go to the Louxe Lounge on a double date," he said as she was packing up her rackets. "I know how you love their salmon."

She froze. By "double date," he could only mean Suzuki Nanao and Atobe Keigo. "No."

"But it'll be fun," he persisted.

"Dates with you are hardly fun to begin with."

"Well," he said, moving very close. "That's not true at all. That time I committed that class D felony by stealing Elizabeth the Third…" He moved closer still, lowering his voice suggestively. "I distinctly remember you having fun."

She would not blush. She was Shigohara Minako, for god's sake. She would _will _herself not to blush.

"I do like that car," she mused thoughtfully instead. "Steal it for me again, then we'll talk."

"Come on, Minako-chan. You know you want to go."

"Why," she seethed. "Would I ever want to go on a double date with Atobe and his girlfriend?" She paused. Added scathingly, "Or is she even his girlfriend at this point? They've been so on and off that I can't keep track anymore."

He quirked a brow. "As if we have a right to talk."

"Just another reason not to put a label on things, Yuushi." She frowned, testing the tension on one of her rackets, before putting it in her bag. "Besides, I don't care for either of them."

"I care for both of them."

"More reason for me to dislike them both."

"You know," he said lightly. "Keigo is extremely close with his aunt. This accident has hit him extremely hard. This could take his mind off of things."

"You're seriously appealing to my sympathetic side?" She raised a skeptical brow. "You should know better than that, Yuushi. I don't _have_ a sympathetic side."

He continued without halting, "Keigo just needs a distraction."

"And _I'm_ the distraction?" Funny, that's exactly what she always was. As far as her father was concerned, at least.

"Well, at least for an evening, he can focus on something besides his grief. Even if it is his dislike of you. Besides…" He smiled dangerously. "You owe me."

"So _this_ is the big activity you had planned? You're going to make me go on a double date with Atobe and his girlfriend?"

"Well… not _entirely_…." He sighed. "If you must know, I have something special planned for afterwards."

Her eyebrows shot up.

He smirked. "I guess you'll have to go on the double date to find out."

Damn geniuses. They always got their way, one way or the other.

"It's not like I have a choice," she grumbled, zipping up her racket bag and throwing it over her shoulder. "Whatever. I've been meaning to see what Suzuki is made of, anyways."

**~x~**

The Louxe Lounge was one of the most expensive restaurants in the Tokyo Metropolitan area. Among serving upscale French-fusion cuisine, the restaurant also boasted a six-foot-long crystal lobster tank and a ten-story chocolate fountain. The wine list was extensive; the vintage Dom Pérignon champagne was one of the most popular drinks ordered at a mere $1,950 dollars a pop. Reservations usually had to be made six months in advance.

Of course, such rules didn't apply to the corporate darlings of the world.

"You know, I'm starting to feel a little jealous." Oshitari's voice drawled in her ear as she led the way to their regular table. "Every man in this room is staring at you." A quick glance. "And half the women as well."

Minako paused, unable to resist a seductive smile. "Can you blame them?" she asked, turning around. She caressed his cheek with her finger. "Don't worry. I'm yours tonight, remember?"

He chuckled lowly. "I'm starting to think that _you're_ the one that needs a reminder that tonight is supposed to be PG-13. But if you want to change the rules—"

"Not happening."

He sighed forlornly. "One can hope."

They reached their booth and sat down. Suzuki Nanao was looking around, gaping like an awestruck child. "There's a crystal _lobster _tank, Keigo," she said breathlessly, tugging on his sleeve. "A _lobster_ tank."

"She's never been here before," Atobe affirmed, as if that explained everything.

"Has she never seen a lobster before?" Minako said smartly under her breath.

Oshitari kicked her lightly, fixing her with a stern look. "Be nice, Minako-chan."

Atobe put an affectionate hand on Nanao's head. "Stop doing that fish impression. You're embarrassing yourself, Nanao."

Minako narrowed her eyes at both of them.

"Yuushi." Atobe jerked his head slightly to the side and didn't even need to say anything else. He rose to his feet.

"We're going to the bar," Oshitari clarified, standing up as well. "Do you want anything?"

"Just get me something strong," she said pleasantly. Then she muttered darkly, "I'll need it."

Oshitari nudged her foot again. '_Be nice._'

She rolled her eyes.

**~x~**

Now that the boys had gone, Nanao wasn't sure what to say, so she smiled warmly at Minako. Though they definitely didn't hang out in the same social circles, their paths had crossed on occasion. "How are you doing, Shigohara-san?"

"I'm fine, Suzuki-san. Thank you for asking."

Her response was cool, her tone even cooler. She did not ask how Nanao was doing, which made Nanao feel just a little uncomfortable. She fidgeted slightly. "Um…"

Minako kept her catlike gaze on her, cold and expectant and calculating.

Everything about Shigohara Minako was cold, Nanao realized. Even when Minako smiled prettily at the waiter (who practically _swooned_), Nanao could sense the edge there, like a hidden blade, and she felt the strangest urge to wince.

This girl was unbelievably guarded. Maybe she had reason to be. Maybe she was afraid of being hurt.

"Yuushi-kun really likes you," Nanao blurted out.

Minako's distant expression barely wavered at all. If anything, her brows appeared to arch just a little, as if to say, '_So?_'

"He—he talks about you. A lot," Nanao fumbled.

"Rightfully so," she replied, unimpressed.

Nanao laughed awkwardly. "I guess. But he's been picking up a lot of classic literature these days, too. I think he's reading them to be closer to you, in the little ways that he can."

She noticed that Minako's lips parted every-so-slightly in surprise.

Minako glanced over at Oshitari, who was still engrossed in conversation at the bar. Her gaze softened, her lips curving upwards in a half-smile. It reminded Nanao of the way sunlight breaks through a cool morning mist, all soft and diffused and angelic. "I can't believe him," Minako said, very quietly. "He hates classic literature."

Nanao smiled too. Even though Keigo complained endlessly about them, and about how '_that woman_' had Yuushi-kun wrapped around her finger, waiting on her hand and foot, Nanao personally thought that they were rather well-suited.

At least, Shigohara Minako suited Oshitari Yuushi far more than she ever did.

The boys suddenly finished their conversation at the bar and returned to the table. "So," Oshitari said, setting the drink down in front of her. "What did you and Nanao-chan talk about while we were gone?"

She exchanged a look with Nanao. The latter was blushing and smiling shyly. "Grown-up stuff," Minako finally said with a sly smirk. "You two wouldn't understand."

Oshitari pecked her on the cheek, and Atobe tried to control the panic in his voice when he said darkly, "What is _that_ supposed to mean."

**~x~**

At the end of dinner, they all headed to the exit, where they parted ways. Atobe and Suzuki's limousine arrived first. As Nanao waved enthusiastically at them from the car window, Minako couldn't help but quirk her lips into a smile.

Oshitari turned to Minako expectantly. "So?"

The smile disappeared instantly. "I still don't like her."

"Mmhmm." He did not sound the least bit convinced.

"She's boring."

"Mmhmm."

"She's disinteresting."

"So you've said."

"She's annoyingly competent."

"Oh? Is that a compliment I hear?"

She swatted him. "Shut up, Yuushi."

It was oddly annoying, this fondness that was creeping into her heart like branches of ivy. In a way, Suzuki Nanao reminded her a little of Ootori. And now that she was incredibly infatuated with Atobe instead of Oshitari, she was no longer competition.

(Not that Minako ever considered her as real competition.)

That girl had warmth. Warmth that Hyotei lacked, warmth that their world would typically swallow whole. Minako barely even knew her, and yet Nanao's disarming smile made her feel as if she could pour out her heart to her, tell her every dark secret, and Nanao would listen – listen, and forgive, and maybe help banish her demons.

And Minako _hated_ that.

She was dangerous, Suzuki Nanao was.

But when it came down to it, Minako supposed that Suzuki Nanao was simply impossible to hate.

**~x~**

"So are you going to tell me where we're going?" she asked as they climbed into the limousine. Per his request, she'd changed into more comfortable attire, which consisted of a maxi dress made of a soft cotton material.

"Not a chance." He too, had switched his blazer and slacks for much more casual clothing.

"You know, it's pretty late. I can't imagine too many places being open right now," she said, feeling unexpectedly apprehensive.

He merely smiled secretively, which only made her more anxious.

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at a smooth, dome shaped building. He took her hand and pulled her out of the car, leading her inside.

Her breath caught as she saw the hundreds of stars that carpeted the ceiling. It was like someone had taken a handful of glitter and tossed it into the sky. "You took me to the planetarium?"

That's when she noticed the four-poster, king-sized bed in the middle of the room. She whirled on him in anger, hands on her hips. "_Yuushi_—"

He held up his hands innocently. "I promise you, it's not what you think."

She glared. "A king-sized bed doesn't leave much room for thought, Yuushi."

"My intentions were PG-13," he insisted.

"_Were?!_"

"Is. Are."

This whole time, he'd used the bet to achieve _this?_ She shook her head. "I should've known you'd pull something like this." For some reason, she felt unusually betrayed and hurt, even though she figured it was like him to do something like this. "I'm leaving," she said firmly, turning for the door.

He caught her arm. "I promise, I'm not trying to trick you into bed. If I were planning to sleep with you tonight, I'd…" He looked around for inspiration. "I'd carpet the place in rose petals, and light a hundred scented candles. I'd have Tchaikovsky playing in the background because I know he's your favorite."

Her lips parted, and despite everything, a bubble of incredulous laughter escaped her. "You actually _thought_ about that?"

He tilted his head and smiled, as if to say '_Of course I have.'_

"Well… fine," she said, shrugging off the unsettling feeling. She crossed her arms. "If you aren't planning to sleep with me, then what's the bed for?"

He climbed onto it, and patted the space next to him. "Come here and you'll find out."

With a sigh and a glance heavenward as if asking why God had forsaken her, she warily climbed into the empty space next to him. She made sure that there was a good amount of distance between their bodies.

He picked up a remote, and pressed the button.

The starry ceiling suddenly came to life.

Blinded temporarily, she had to squint through the explosive color. "What is this?"

He smirked in satisfaction. "The biggest flat-screen TV I could find."

As her eyes refocused, she saw the title screen on the ceiling, and the music in her ears. He'd brought her here to watch a movie. And not just any movie…

"_Romeo and Juliet…_" she whispered in realization. "We're watching _Romeo and Juliet._"

"PG-13," he said smugly. "I checked the rating." He clicked '_Play_' on the remote, and leaned back against the headboard.

Minako felt her jaw slacken. "This is… really romantic, Yuushi," she finally admitted. She turned her head to catch his eye, the colors of the movie dancing in his glasses. "I'm impressed. I really am."

"I try," he said in response with a smile. "I try."

"Although," she added, shifting on the bed to get comfortable. "If memories serve me right, this movie was pretty awful. I think I saw it when I was twelve." It was the 1996 modern version with Leonardo DiCaprio.

He pulled the comforter over both of them. "Yes, but I thought it was contextually significant to us. It was either this one or '_Gnomeo and Juliet._' "

She grimaced involuntarily. "Well, I'm glad you picked this one, then."

The movie began. Since they'd both seen it, it gave them the freedom to talk through the film.

"Leonardo Dicaprio was so much more attractive back then," she commented when he appeared on the screen.

Oshitari wasn't sure how she'd feel if he agreed, so he didn't respond.

As the movie progressed, they took turns pointing out the inconsistencies between it and the actual play.

"Why is Mercutio black?"

"Maybe to show diversity?"

"But isn't he supposed to be related to the Prince and Count Paris? Paris is white."

"Hmm. Perhaps he's just on the receiving end of some very, very recessive genes."

A few more minutes later…

"Gregory's supposed to be a Montague."

"He jumped ship. The Capulets are hotter."

Tybalt came into view on screen.

"…Never mind. I'm team Montague."

He chuckled from beside her.

A few moments later, she said scornfully, "If you're going to make a modern adaptation, why would you stick with the Old English language? Wouldn't it just be easier to say, " 'sup Juliet. I think you're hot. Let's make out?' "

He laughed. Said, "Would that have worked if I said that when we first met?"

She kicked him under the covers.

Another moment later…

"Wait. He took an ecstasy pill?"

"Apparently."

"Wow. I definitely missed that when I watched it as a kid."

As the fight scenes escalated, she said, "This whole thing is kind of like a really awful Maroon 5 music video."

"I didn't realize you listened to American pop."

"I borrow Rie's iPod from time to time."

When the balcony scene came onto the screen, they both recited the quotes from memory. Try as she might, Minako could not hide the growing smile on her face.

Halfway through the movie, he slowly reached for her hand under the covers, like a love-struck teenager might hesitatingly put an arm over their date during a movie. She jumped a little at the contact, and for a moment he thought she was going to pull away. Then she smiled, and curled her fingers within his.

When the scene with Romeo and Juliet in bed together occurred, Minako was extremely grateful that it was dark. For some reason, her cheeks felt uncomfortably warm.

She snuck a glance at Oshitari. He was grinning.

Bastard.

"I feel bad for Count Paris," she brought up. "He really liked Juliet too."

"Ah, but Romeo _loved_ Juliet."

"After a day? He didn't even know her."

"It was love at first sight."

"It wasn't love. He was whacked out on ecstasy."

As the movie wore on, Oshitari found that watching Minako was more entertaining than what was on screen. She could be extraordinarily expressive when she wasn't trying to reign in every single emotion.

Her hand tightened around his when Mercutio was shot. Her breathing quickened when Juliet's father demanded that she marry Paris. She closed her eyes tightly when Romeo screamed out in anguish at the news of Juliet's death.

"I heard that," he murmured mischievously, near the end.

"What?"

"You sighed when he drank the poison."

She scoffed. "She woke up and it freaked him out. She _scared_ him into swallowing it. It's all her fault."

However when Juliet put the gun to her head, Minako couldn't stop the little cry of dismay that escaped her throat.

As the credits began to roll, Oshitari turned on his side to look at her, his hand still holding hers. "So… what do you think?"

"The movie was terrible."

"I'm not talking about the movie." He paused for a minute and said more quietly, "What do you think about romance, Minako. Do you believe that it's real?"

"No." After a moment, she slowly lifted her eyes to meet his. "But," she said faintly. "I think I'm starting to."

His heart skipped a beat. He had the urge to lean in and kiss her, PG-13 be damned.

But Minako suddenly let go of his hand, breaking the moment. She lifted it to stifle a yawn. "It's pretty late," she said.

He reached out to twirl a lock of hair between her fingers. "The limousine is waiting outside to take you home… Or," he said haltingly. "You could stay. I bought out the place until noon tomorrow."

She looked at him, hesitating.

For some reason, voice of reason in her head, the endless mantra of how she was walking down a dark, dark path, was silent tonight. It was odd, really.

She felt peculiarly safe, peculiarly secure. Which was usually the opposite of how she felt around him.

"Stay," he murmured, touching her cheek tenderly. "Stay with me."

She breathed in.

Something unbelievably pure and innocent had happened between them tonight. It was fleeting, this whole _thing_ between them was fleeting, and there were so many things that she wasn't sure about – but she was sure of this, at least – she wanted to hold onto it. For now, she wasn't ready for this moment between them to end.

"I'll stay," she finally decided sleepily, the words flowy and dreamlike. "I'll stay."

He smiled at her response. Said, "Can I put my arm around you in a PG-13 way?"

She decided it was useless to point out that there was nothing PG-13 about the way she felt when he touched her. "Okay," she said with a smile. "If you want."

He shifted closer, wrapping an arm securely around her shoulders.

'_Ocean-sweet,_' she thought as she breathed in his scent. '_Ocean-dark, ocean-sweet._' She pressed her forehead against his chest, and counted his heartbeats, one by one.

He shifted to kiss the top of head. "Goodnight, sweet Juliet."

A dozen heartbeats later, she drowsily replied, the words nearly muffled by his shirt. "Goodnight, Romeo…"

His answering smile was as bright as the sun.

That night, they slept like children, huddled together, their faces unmasked and their hearts unguarded.

**~x~**

END CHAPTER SIX

REVIEW PLS PLS.

Also, here's a list of alternative summaries for YWISSG that I've posted to the tumblr.

"SEX. WITHOUT THE ACTUAL SEX."

"5 chapters of endless teasing (and more to come.)"

"Fifty shades of Hyotei."

"Can't get no satisfaction."

"It's All Greek's hot big sister.

The next chapter will be a collab with coffeelatte. I'M SO EXCITED. SQUEEEEE.


	7. Act II, Scene IV

Warning number one: LONG CHAPTER IS LONG.

Warning number two: There is a very, very suggestive theme near the end of the chapter. It involves strawberries. If you are uncomfortable with that sort of thing, skip it.

This is a collab chapter with It's All Greek's chapter 23. The events intertwine.

Dedicated to **coffeelatte **because she said this: "You need to write chapters as long as TCAFS to satisfy my craving for YWISSG." Be careful what you wish for, coffee.

Also to **The Jabberer**, because of sex. As always.

**~x~**

_O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle:__  
__If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him.__  
__That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; __  
__For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, __  
__But send him back. _

\- William Shakespeare, _Romeo and Juliet_

**~x~**

It was the day before the infamous Hanazono yacht party that she finally dared to ask her mother, "Exactly how much longer does Father expect me to keep this up?"

Her mother flipped a page of a tabloid magazine without looking at her. "I don't know," she said, completely unconcerned. "Probably at least for another month or so. You know, gathering information for a lawsuit is hard work."

"You think _this _is easy for me?"

"It should be." Her mother's expression was one of disapproval. "I taught you all my tricks, didn't I?"

_How to control men, how to manipulate them, how to wrap them around your finger. Isn't it so easy to get what you want, Minako?_

_Remember, behind every king, there's a queen pulling the strings from the shadows. _

Minako felt like there were barbs in the back of her throat. "He asked me to be his girlfriend, Mother. His _girlfriend._"

"Well, that's good. It means you've got him right where you want him."

"But this is… it's different, this time." Minako felt a little stab from inside at this realization, and tried to play it off, "He's… he's a friend."

Her mother waved a hand. "Irrelevant. You know how your father feels about personal relationships in business."

'_Personal relationships are like coal. Reap them, use them, burn them, until from them you can extract diamonds.'_

"Your father's not asking much. Just keep him occupied. As long as you're with him, his family is sure to be distracted."

_This is a dark, dark path, Minako. A dark, dark path._

"By the way, make sure you're photographed with him plenty of times at the Hanazono yacht party. Maybe you'll even make the society pages of the paper this time." Her mother flipped through another page. "If Atobe and his girlfriend don't take up the entire section again."

Her hands curled into fists, nails cutting into her skin, but Minako held her tongue. The thing about having such a sharp tongue was that if you weren't careful, it could slice your own throat.

**~x~**

His father rapped on his door, holding up a thin velvet case. "You wanted me to retrieve this from the safe?"

"Yes. Thank you, Father," Yuushi said, bowing his head as he took the box from him. "I appreciate it." He set it on the dresser, where he went back to fixing the bouquet of roses he'd ordered.

A moment later, his father said, "I know what you're doing."

Yuushi paused, turning to meet his father's gaze.

"You're trying to make her fall in love with you."

He didn't say anything.

His father plucked one of the roses out of the bouquet, examining it critically. "So is there some kind of bet going on? A wager with your tennis team boys or something?"

"No, nothing of the sort."

His father shot him a narrow look, searching his face like a detective looking for clues. With a slight shake of his head, he finally said, "Sometimes I worry about the things you do for your own amusement."

"You don't have to, Father," Yuushi said. "I have my personal affairs under control."

He gave the rose in his hands another twirl, taking care to avoid touching the thorns. With a sigh, he tossed it back onto the dresser. "Be careful, Yuushi," his father cautioned. "Defrosting an ice-queen is risky. Get too close and she could freeze your heart."

**~x~**

New message from: _Shigohara Minako _at 5:32 PM

Hey. I'm trying on dresses for the Hanazono yacht party and I'd like your opinion.

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi _at 5:32 PM

I would be happy to be of assistance. Especially if it's helping you get out of them. Shall I come over? ;)

New message from: _Shigohara Minako _at 5:33 PM

You wish, Yuushi. I'll text you pictures.

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi_ at 5:33 PM

Pictures? How kinky. :-D

New Message: _Shigohara Minako _attached 5 photos at 5:40 PM

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi_ at 5:43 PM

The second one and the last one are the best.

New message from: _Shigohara Minako_ at 5:44 PM

Of course you would pick the most revealing ones.

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi_ at 5:44 PM

I am merely offering my honest and completely unbiased opinion. :D :3

New message from: _Shigohara Minako_ at 5:45 PM

Shut up.

New message from: _Shigohara Minako_ at 5:45 PM

Also, quit it with the flashy emoticons. I feel like I'm going to get epilepsy just from opening one of your texts.

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi_ at 5:46 PM

:-D :-P  
c:

) O )  
( O (

(*´▽*）

(^O^)

**~x~**

"Miss?" One of the butlers tapped on her door. "Oshitari Yuushi-kun is here to escort you to the Hanazono yacht party."

"Let him in." She adjusted a bracelet around her wrist. "You're here early," she said when he stepped through the door, looking at him through the mirror as she applied her lipstick.

"Well, I had to bring you the finishing touch." He pulled out a black velvet case, opening it to reveal a string of sparking diamonds.

Her breath caught in her throat. "That necklace. You gave it to me when we were still engaged." Her hand unconsciously felt for the bare skin on her neck. "I gave it back to you when it ended."

He set the case on the vanity, and delicately picked up the necklace.

"I can't…" she said softly. That necklace was far too valuable. Wearing it on her neck would just mean… it would mean…

"Of course you can," he said, holding it up. "It was meant for you."

"So was that engagement ring," she pointed out. "But it wouldn't be right to put that back on."

"Just wear it, Minako."

"But we're not…" She stopped. Not _what_? Not together?

At this point, who was she to say that?

She lifted her hair, inhaling sharply as the strand was looped around her neck. The jewels were ice-cold against her skin. He clasped it gently, pressing a light kiss to the nape of her neck.

"It's beautiful on you," he said, gazing at her reflection.

She touched the necklace in wonder. "It's a stunning piece."

"Mmhmm," he murmured, his lips finding her earlobe.

"Stop that." She patted him away, rising from her chair. "We should head out soon."

He took a step back to admire her properly, from head to foot.

Though the length of the dress was long, the navy material of the dress was very sheer, showing peeks of skin. It made it look as if she fell into a pile of crystal glitter, clinging to every inch of her willowy physique. As she walked, the dress rippled around her legs, the sequins sparkling with every little movement. Her makeup was dark and smoky, and her lips painted a deep sultry plum.

She looked like some sort of dark, midnight goddess.

"You're staring," she commented, though she seemed pleased by it.

"Well." The set of his mouth curved. "You're good to look at."

She gave him a little '_I know_' head tilt_._ She reached out to tug on his tie seductively. "You don't look so bad yourself."

"I know."

She laughed.

He pulled her closer. "I'm glad you chose the dress I picked." It was one of the two he'd approved of earlier.

"It's not just because of you. The designer is paying me a good amount of money to wear it." At such a high profile event, the press and paparazzi were sure to be present. Any designer would jump at the chance to hang their couture on the body of one of the corporate darlings.

Especially if it was Shigohara Minako, the daughter of a retired international supermodel.

"It is a lovely dress," he said, running a hand appreciatively along the curve of her waist. "I think it would look lovelier on my bedroom floor."

She had to hide her smile. "No it wouldn't, because then it'd wrinkle."

He leaned in for her lips, but she pulled away. "_Stop_," she protested unconvincingly. "I _just_ finished applying my lipstick."

"I can't say that I know much about lipstick," he said, kissing one corner of her mouth. "But I do know that you can always reapply it." He kissed the other corner.

She couldn't keep the smile off her face any longer. "We don't have time for that. Come on, let's head out. We don't want to be too late."

He sighed and followed her out the door. Maybe he'd have better luck in the limo. If he remembered correctly, she liked limo rides.

**~x~**

Unfortunately for him, Minako playfully fended off his advances in the limo as well. "Yuushi," she said, as one of the ushers approached to open the door. "_Everyone_ is here, including my parents. We have to keep things PG-13 tonight."

He slid closer. "There are a lot of things that PG-13 allows for, you know..."

"I'm _serious,_ Yuushi." While her father had basically thrown her into Oshitari's arms, that did not mean he would allow her to behave in any sort of indecent way with him, at least, not in public.

"Whatever you say, milady," he promised as the door opened. He got out first and extended a hand to her, pulling her out of the limousine.

Tonight, the crowds were as big as ever, a whirl of glittering dresses and tailored suits. The Hanazonos had even procured a red carpet leading to the yacht, like one might expect at an awards show. The press were eagerly snapping pictures of the attendees, like they were celebrities – which they were, in their own world.

"You can get that kiss now, if you want," she said, amidst the flashes of cameras and the shouts of the crowd.

"Now?" he asked, though his hands were already circling her waist. "Are you sure? We'll end up all over the tabloids."

"So?"

He chuckled, leaning in. "Sometimes I wonder if you're a bit of an exhibitionist."

She titled her head back slightly to catch his lips in hers. The kiss was short and sweet. There was a line between romantic and scandalous, and in the public eye, Minako had to make sure her image was always, _always_ the former.

Her parents didn't give a damn how she conducted romantic affairs in her private life. In public, however, she had to remain pure. Not necessarily pure as snow, but pure as…

'_Pure as water,_' she thought to herself as Oshitari guided her over the dock and onto the boat. Yes, that made sense. The kind of pure that would meet drinking water standards. It could be a little tainted, and a little dirty. Just a little, so long as it was a secret.

They were not the only Hyotei members garnering attention at the event. Shishido had escorted her vice-captain, Matoko Rie, to the occasion. Rie was dressed in a black gown with a low slashed neckline. True to her daring fashion style, the gown was covered with gold, punkish studs. Her white-blond hair was slicked back, the blue streak as vibrant as ever, though to her parents' relief she'd removed her eyebrow piercing.

Ayumi was on the arm of a surprisingly perky Jirou. When Minako gave her a questioning look, she answered, "Caffeine," with a nod towards the boy.

"I should think that your dress alone could keep him awake," Minako said. Ayumi's shorter dress was an obnoxiously bright pink shade, with a huge, ruffled skirt.

When she saw Eri, Minako broke away from Oshitari's side. Eri looked surprisingly pretty tonight, but that wasn't why people were whispering. She'd pinned her sunshine-colored hair up. Her silver dress dipped low in the back, revealing rows upon rows of red welts on her skin. Everyone in the room was trying painfully not to stare.

It was her own coping mechanism, Minako knew. Eri bore her physical scars just as openly as she did her psychological ones. She showed them off, if only to make other people uncomfortable.

"Six," Eri suddenly said, noticing her staring. She looked down her back, and met Minako's gaze steadily. "Six," she said again, her voice dead and toneless. "One for every rank I dropped in the exams."

Minako's gaze softened. "Oh, Eri…"

Fuuma Eri had ranked eleventh in the last round of exams. Suzuki Nanao had ranked tenth.

Minako had ranked seventh.

If she'd known, Minako would've thrown the exams. She would've done poorly on purpose, just so Eri could rank in the top ten. There weren't many people Minako was willing to do that for, but Eri was one of them.

Eri had only to ask.

But Eri never did ask, and never would.

Hyotei was a school for the elite, where the students grew up with unattainable standards and impossibly high expectations. Each of them dealt with the pressures of high society differently. They were all different, yes, but they had one thing in common.

Pride.

If anything else, being Hyotei meant that you were extraordinarily proud. For better, for worse.

Even someone as quiet and gentle as Eri had far too much pride to ever ask for help.

Minako swallowed, and despite knowing all that, opened her mouth to begin a conversation they'd had a million times. "Isn't there anything—"

"It's fine, Minako-buchou," Eri cut in. "Don't worry. I'll just deal with it."

'_Like we always do. Smile and bear it. Pretend that nothing's wrong._'

'_We're perfection from outside the windows.'_

There was nothing Minako could do, anyways. Corporal punishment, though banned in schools, was still legal in Japanese homes. Eri's parents had a right to discipline their child, even if that right was manifested into a wooden bamboo stick.

Eri adjusted a tendril of light blond hair over her face. "A few more months, and this will all be over. I'm going to college in Europe." Her voice shook slightly, which was her only display of emotion. "I'll be out of that hell hole, and off of this damn island."

And there it was – this was the biggest difference between Fuuma Eri and Shigohara Minako.

Eri dared to _leave_.

She dared to throw it all to chance, to walk out of their world, to make something new of herself.

Soft-spoken, mild Eri was the bravest person she knew.

"Are you going to gamble tonight?" Minako finally asked, changing the subject. She forced a smile. "I know wherever you go, a winning streak follows." Of course, it had nothing to do with luck when it came to Eri.

"I suppose. It would help take my mind off things. Maybe I'll hit up the blackjack tables."

"Didn't you get kicked out of a casino once for winning too much?"

She smiled cryptically. "People fear what they can't explain, Minako-buchou."

**~x~**

Along with the lavish party festivities every year, the Hanazonos also turned their cruise-liner into a Vegas casino center. The extra money went to several different charities, but the main purpose of the gambling was to satisfy the thrill-seeking tendencies of their upper class attendees.

Of course, members of the upper crust gambled with far higher stakes.

Stock options, government bonds, hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash… those were only a few things that were up for grabs at a betting table. Even the extravagant teenagers enjoyed betting against one another, putting hefty allowances, large jewelry, and even percentages of their _inheritances _on the line.

There were several options: Craps tables, a wheel of fortune, black jack tables, slot machines, and much more.

Minako automatically headed over to the poker table.

She wasn't great at probability; she certainly couldn't count cards. But she could bluff her way out of anything.

At one of the tables, she found a few members of the tennis team.

"Are… are these good cards?" Nanao asked, tugging on Atobe's sleeve.

"No, those are terrible. She folds," he said to the dealer.

"Wait…" Nanao blinked. "Why?"

Atobe rolled his eyes and ignored her question. "I need to make a few rounds. I'll be back. Yuushi, keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't lose her entire family's fortune."

The dealer passed out a new hand.

Nanao turned to him for help. "What should I do, Yuushi-kun?"

He looked over her shoulder at her cards. "Put in a bet."

"Oh, okay!" she squeaked, pushing forward a stack of chips. In her haste, they fell over.

"Call," Shishido said.

"I'll call that too, please!" Choutarou chimed up.

"Me too," Rie said, putting her chips into the center.

They all overturned their cards, one by one. To everyone's surprise, Choutarou won the entire pot, for _the fifth time in a row._

"This kid's a downright _shark_," Rie said, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"It's really just luck," Choutarou mumbled with a slight blush, shrugging modestly.

The dealer dealt out a new hand for the next round.

"Yuushi-kun?" Nanao whispered again. "What should I do?"

"Well… You should probably fold right away," Oshitari conceded. It wasn't an ideal hand, and that poor girl couldn't bluff to save her life.

"God, you _suck_ at this," Minako said in exasperation, shoving Oshitari aside. "Let me see those, Suzuki."

Surreptitiously, Nanao gave her a peek at her cards.

After assessing them, Minako turned her calculating stare to the other players. She put a hand over Nanao's cards to keep them hidden. "We're in," she declared.

"We are?" Nanao asked disbelievingly. "But Yuushi-kun said to—"

"Don't listen to him. He's full of it."

Nanao glanced back at him in mild concern, but he appeared to let the insult roll off his shoulders easily. If anything, he almost seemed to accept it as affection. "Well," Oshitari murmured. "It seems you've got this under control. I'm going to check out the blackjack table." Minako barely even looked up; so deep she was in her assessment of the table.

The dealer laid out the first three cards on the table.

Minako touched Nanao's shoulder furtively. "Shishido has a really bad hand, but he's going to try to bluff his way out of it," she said quietly into her ear, just as Shishido announced that he wanted to raise the bet.

Nanao blinked in disbelief. "What— how did you know that?"

Minako hesitated, then leaned in to whisper her tip. "When you're playing any sort of poker… don't just watch the cards. Watch the people." Her gaze swept across all the other players. "It's all about bluffing." Turning back to the table, she said, "We'll match your bet, Shishido."

The dealer laid out another card.

"Wait! That's good!" Nanao said excitedly, showing Minako her cards again. "That's a pair, right?"

Rie glanced at her suspiciously.

"_Nanao." _Minako hissed urgently, her gaze stern. She didn't even realize that she'd broken protocol and skipped straight to using her given name until it was already out. "_Never_ reveal it if you have a good hand. People will pull out of the game if they know."

Nanao blushed, partially from the scolding, and partially from hearing Minako use her first name.

"I fold," Rie decided when her turn came around. "I'm out."

Shishido exchanged a speaking glance with her, and put his cards down on the table as well.

"See?" Minako pointed out quietly. "If they thought your hand was bad, they would keep betting. We could've pumped more money out of them."

"Oh…" Nanao stammered, shamefaced. "Sorry."

She nudged her slightly with her shoulder. "Just pay attention."

The dealer laid the final card, the river, down on the table.

"Do we bet?" Nanao whispered. The only person left in the game was Choutarou. Quickly, Nanao tried to read his expression, just like Minako told her to. "Ootori-kun looks very… um, calm?"

Minako observed for a moment longer. "He's got a good hand," she pondered. "It's probably as good as ours."

"How can you tell?"

"It's as you said. He's really calm. I've known Choutarou for a while, and he gets flustered rather easily."

"Oh." Nanao looked down at her cards. "Should we fold, then?"

Minako considered. "No," she said slowly. "Let's take a gamble. We'll take the bet," she said to the dealer, nudging the chips forward.

The dealer briskly arranged the chips into neat piles. "Bets are in. Players, show your cards."

Both of them flipped their cards over.

Nanao peered at them, trying to make sense of the jumble as the dealer switched their cards with those on the table. Her mind couldn't keep up. "Two, two, jack, five—"

"Two pairs. Split pot," the dealer declared, dividing the winning pile deftly into two sections.

"Wait," Nanao said, baffled. "What just happened?"

"He had the same hand as us, so we split the winnings," Minako explained. She looked dissatisfied. She locked a piece of hair behind her ear, gazing ahead with determination. "Whatever. He can take this one. Next time, we'll get the whole pot."

Nanao beamed at her as her pile of chips tripled before her eyes. It made Minako want to smile.

Instead, she flicked her across the forehead. "You have a terrible poker face," Minako said scornfully.

"Oh." Nanao frowned and tried with utmost concentration to straighten out her face.

Minako concealed the bubble of laughter in her throat.

**~x~**

They were nearly halfway through the second game before Atobe returned, announcing his presence with all the subtlety of a thunderbolt. "What the devil are you doing?"

"We'll check," Minako said to the dealer, deliberately ignoring him. "Nanao, _focus._"

"What," Atobe hissed, stepping in between the two of them. "Are you _doing_?"

Minako raised her eyebrows. "Can't you see? I'm teaching your girlfriend something useful."

"I can teach her this myself. She doesn't need to be learning anything from the likes of you."

"Keigo—" Oshitari started.

Minako held up a hand. "Well, why don't you sit down then, Atobe?" she suggested sweetly. Her eyes were burning with the anticipation of a challenge. "Let's see how you play."

Nanao immediately got out of her chair so that Atobe could take it. "You're going to regret asking that," he said.

"I think I'll join as well," Oshitari commented after a moment, sliding into a chair a little further away.

"Yuushi!" Gakuto complained. "I was going to sit there!"

"Senpai, you can have my spot," Choutarou offered, scooping his chips into his container. "I'm leaving. I know better than to play against Shigohara-senpai." He gave her a little smile, and she winked back at him.

With a grumble, Gakuto took over Choutarou's seat at the table.

The dealer surveyed them, making sure everyone was settled, before passing them two cards each.

Minako gave her cards a quick peek, memorizing them. Her expression was absolutely even – she made sure of that. She placed her cards face down on the table, folded her hands over them so they wouldn't tremble.

When it came down to it, poker was sickening similar to how she had to act around her parents.

Maybe that's why she was so good at it.

_Steady your hands, Minako. Keep your face neutral, keep your feelings in check._

_Emotions are weaknesses. Hide them, don't let them show._

The first three cards were laid out in front of the dealer. King of hearts, three of spades, seven of spades.

"I'll bet a thousand," Minako said when her turn came about.

Gakuto pushed a small stack of chips forward, "I'll call that."

Oshitari followed suit. "Call."

"I'm in," Rie said, sliding a stack of her chips forward.

"Me too," Atobe said.

The dealer laid out another card on the table. Queen of diamonds.

It was a good card, a _great_ card, but she knew better than to show her cards too soon. "I'm in for another one grand," Minako said, laying her chips down.

"I'll call that," Oshitari said, "And raise you to three grand."

She shot him a look.

"Dammit, Yuushi," Gakuto whined, pushing his cards away. "I fold."

"I bet he's bluffing," Rie declared. I'll call that." She pushed three thousand dollars worth of chips forward. Shishido did the same.

Oshitari smiled at her. "Minako dear?"

Minako pushed her chips forward to match his bet, locking her gaze on his. "I'll call."

The dealer laid down the final card on the table. Three of clubs.

They all placed their final bets, until it got to Rie's turn. She hesitated.

"Rie," Minako said, sliding her hand down her wine glass. "Forget it. Back out while you still can."

"I don't know what you mean."

She traced the rim of her wine glass thoughtfully. "You've got one high card, probably an ace," Minako said complacently. "But that's all. You're just as easy to read at the table as you are on the court."

Rie threw her a dirty glance. "Screw you, Shigohara-buchou." She put her cards down in begrudging defeat. "I fold."

Gakuto snuck a peak at the cards she tossed down. "She's right," he whispered in awe, swiveling his head to look at Minako. "Matoko had an ace."

"And how would you know something like that?" Oshitari asked. "You certainly are terrifying."

Minako smiled mysteriously. "So, Atobe?" she said, turning to him. "Your move."

"In," he said decisively. "And I'll raise you to ten grand."

"Whoa, Atobe…" Shishido said, alarmed. "Now that's a bit much."

Atobe sniffed. "This is merely spare change to ore-sama."

"I see your ten grand," Minako said sliding her chips forward. "And I'll raise _you_ to fifteen grand."

"Minako," Oshitari said quietly.

Shishido's gaze shifted between the two of them. He grumbled, "I've got a pretty great hand, but no way in hell am I getting in the middle of this." He threw his cards forward. "I'm out."

"I fold as well," Oshitari said. "A true soldier knows when the war is lost."

Minako focused her catlike eyes on Atobe. "Well?" she challenged.

The corner of his mouth tightened. One did not simply challenge an Atobe.

He slid the largest stack of his chips into the middle of the board. "I'll raise you to fifty grand."

"F-_fifty?_" Gakuto screeched.

Even the dealer looked momentarily stunned.

Minako considered for a long moment, her finger stroking along the edge of one of the cards.

"How about it, Shigohara?" Atobe picked off a piece of imaginary lint from his impeccably ironed suit. "We don't have all day."

Her gaze snapped to his. "I'm all in," she declared. She had to use both her hands to push all her chips into the pile.

The people around the board drew in a collective breath.

"Minako." Oshitari moved so he was right behind her, his breath in her ear. "Are you _sure_ you know what you're doing?"

"Holy moly!" Ayumi shrieked, coming up to their table. "There must be at least a hundred thousand dollars in that pile!"

People around them turned to stare, and more spectators crowded around the table.

"Are they _crazy_?"

"A showdown between Atobe and Shigohara?

Shishido snorted. "Are you really that surprised?"

All eyes were on Atobe.

At a poker table, this was the ultimate dare. You were either all-in or all-out.

There was no backing down now. Atobe pushed his own pile into the center, the towers of chips falling and scattering around the pile.

"All bets are in," the dealer announced. "Players, show your hands, please."

Neither of them moved.

Minako drummed her fingers on her cards, her lips in a soft smirk. "How about we make this a little more interesting?"

His eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

"I want Elizabeth the Third."

His hands fisted when he thought about how he'd _just_ finished reholstering all of Elizabeth's interiors, and how the cream leather cushions cost a _fortune _to replace, and it was all her and Yuushi's fault and how dare she even have the nerve to ask for—

He glanced down at his cards again, his lip curling. "Fine. If you win, I'll give you Elizabeth the Third. If _I _win…" Atobe searched around for a suitable punishment.

"I'd advise against this, Atobe," Oshitari warned. "Remember the last time you got involved in a creative bet…"

Ah, perfect.

"If I win…" Atobe continued, his eyes now on her luscious, mocha tresses. "You'll shave your hair."

"Whoa," Rie said. "Way harsh, Atobe."

"Not the _hair,_" Ayumi gasped dramatically, clutching her own bouncy curls.

The boys from the tennis team snickered at the memory. Atobe was clearly still bitter about that bet with the Seigaku brat.

Minako twirled one of her brown locks, weighing her options. To Oshitari's surprise, she turned to him. "Would you still date me if I had short hair?"

"Hmm…" He pretended to consider. "I suppose so. I do like this part of you," he said, picking up one of her curls. "But there are parts of you that I enjoy more." Underneath the table, his fingers ghosted along her thigh.

Gakuto made a gagging noise from across the table.

"You're on, Atobe," Minako said, her eyes flashing. "Bring it."

Atobe flipped his cards over.

"Two pair," the dealer announced, "Kings over queens." Atobe rather liked the way it sounded. It had a nice, poetic ring to it.

"If you need to borrow scissors," he said arrogantly to her. "I'm fairly certain Shishido can lend you a pair."

"Not bad," Minako conceded with a nod at his cards. Her expression, however, was far too smug. Atobe knew he was in trouble before she even flipped her own cards over.

"Full house," the dealer pronounced. "Queens full of threes. The high hand at the table. You win, miss."

The table started applauding in awe.

"Shigohara had two queens," Gakuto breathed in disbelief. "She had _two queens._"

"And there was a queen on the table…" Rie said, wide-eyed. "What are the odds…"

"Queens can be tricky in poker," she said haughtily, leveling a wink at Nanao. "We are not so easily dethroned."

**~x~**

"Hand over the key, Atobe," Minako said after the game, her hand outstretched and a superior smile on her face.

Atobe's hand clenched protectively over the key. "No."

"Hey. I won Elizabeth the Third, fair and square."

"There has to be some ground rules. I get visitation rights."

Her smile was positively malicious. "You won't want to visit her after I'm done with her."

"How dare you— You know what, I shouldn't even be considering this. You two—" He threw a glare at Oshitari for good measure, but Oshitari only smiled back charmingly. "You two practically owe me a new Elizabeth just for that stunt you pulled. We'll call it even."

"No deal," Minako said firmly. "You offered her on the poker table, and I won."

"That was _you—"_

"Hey, I would've shaved my hair if you'd won," Minako pointed out, flicking her silky hair over her shoulder. "Though we all know that I'd rock that look better than you did."

Atobe practically seethed, "You have no right to bring that up—"

"Are you really backing out?" Her tone had dropped to something quieter, though more dangerous, more edged. "I always knew you were a fronter but I didn't take you for a pansy too."

This verbal spat was taking a turn for the ugly. Oshitari glanced at her warningly.

There was venom in her voice as she repeated, "I won Elizabeth, fair and square."

"Keigo," Oshitari urged, the slightest strain of irritation in his tone. "You did place that bet."

Atobe's nostrils flared. "There's no way I'll just give her up to the likes of _you."_

"Keigo—"

"No, Yuushi. If you think I'm just going to hand my beloved Elizabeth over to that cold-blooded, heartless woman—"

"That's _enough_, Keigo." Oshitari took a step in front of Minako, his voice suddenly sharp enough to cut steel.

At his dark tone, Atobe stilled.

What he felt next was extreme indignation. How could Oshitari choose to defend _her _over him? That was when he glanced at her, to shoot her a dirty look –and instead, felt his jaw slacken in shock.

All the blood had drained from Minako's face. She inhaled sharply, and for the briefest moment, she looked very, very strange – like she was going to burst into tears, an expression that did not suit her at all.

Then she narrowed her eyes at him in the most menacing of looks, before turning on her heel and stalking away.

~x~

"Minako," she heard him calling after her. "Minako, wait." He closed his hand over her arm.

"I'm fine." She shook him off, and continued forward. "It's nothing."

"With you, it's not nothing when it comes to that word," he said, catching up. They were on the deck of the yacht now, the wind tousling their hair. "I learned that the hard way."

She ignored him, and kept walking, her heels clacking sharply against the wood.

"Minako," he said again.

"It's stupid." She paced along the side of the boat, with no obvious direction. "I can't get so worked up every time I hear that. I just… I have to deal with it. I have to come to terms with it."

_You're a heartless woman, Minako. Cruel, vicious, cold-blooded._

_It's in your DNA._

_That's who you are. That's who you'll become._

_That's how you succeed in this world._

Finally, he placed both his hands on the handrail, effectively trapping her between his arms. "Minako," he said, eyes boring into hers. "You aren't… I don't care what your father said, what he told you. You're _not_ heartless."

She actually flinched when the word left his lips.

"You're _not_," he said again, and reached a hand out, hesitating, before pressing his hand against her chest cavity.

Her heart beat against his palm wildly, like a caught butterfly's wings.

She looked at him, her gaze suddenly bare and naked. Slowly, she put her own hand over his.

It was odd, seeing her like this. She normally cruised through life with such confidence and an aloof sort of poise. He found with a perverse sort of fascination how interesting it was, that a single word could reduce her to a twisted, insecure, fragmented husk of a girl.

And the darker part of him liked it, enjoyed seeing her like this, _wanted_ to see her like this. There was such beauty in her vulnerability. In those moments, she wasn't an untouchable ice queen – she was mortal, just like the rest of them, and in those moments, she could _need_ him, to fix her, to make her whole again.

It was a glorious thing, to feel needed.

The warmth of his hand seeped through the thin material of her dress. Minako took comfort in this, in reassuring herself the simple physicality of things.

He moved closer. Said, "If you want, I could make him apologize."

"Please don't." It was bad enough that she'd exposed her weakness, handed over the ammunition. She didn't need to give him her pride as well.

"Okay. Whatever you want."

For a minute, she just breathed. He waited, feeling the way her heart gradually slowed with each breath.

Finally she looked up. "Yuushi," she said in that teasing tone of hers, swatting away his hand. "Are you using this as an excuse to feel me up?

She was okay again, he thought. Good.

He leaned in and whispered huskily, "Well, you can't blame me for capitalizing on an opportunity when I see one."

"So you won't blame me when I see an opportunity to throw you overboard."

Oh, she was definitely okay.

'_Good girl_,' he thought, smiling. '_Good girl._'

**~x~**

"Hey, Minako. Come here."

"What are you doing?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Not really."

"Minako, you're hurting my feelings," he whined teasingly as he guided her towards the bow of the yacht, standing behind her. He said again, "Do you _trust_ me?"

"Fine," she answered reluctantly. "Yes, I do."

He lifted her arms so they were outstretched, like wings in flight. She turned her head back to stare at him in amused confusion. "What on earth are you doing?"

He looked wounded. "That scene from Titanic."

"Oh." Minako shrugged casually, dropping her arms. "I wouldn't know. I never saw it."

"What?" Now Oshitari looked at her like she'd personally stabbed him in the heart. "_Excuse_ me?"

"It just never caught my interest."

"But it's the greatest romance movie of all time!"

"Then I'm sure I'm not missing much."

"I am going to sit you down one day," he vowed, hugging her tightly from behind. "And make you watch it with me. Everyone has to watch Titanic at least once." In front of them, the ocean was illuminated from the light of the yacht, reflecting it like a thousand shards of glass.

His arms were tight around her, warm and soothing. "Hey," she said, turning her head slightly. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

She hesitated.

"Mi-na-ko," he murmured into her hair. "Stop overthinking. Just tell me."

"I…I'm not sure if I want to go to Tokyo University next year."

He frowned. Tokyo University was the number one school in Japan. With their family backgrounds, there were hardly any acceptable alternatives. "Where would you go, then?"

She shrugged vaguely. "I don't know. Take a year off? Travel? Find a modeling agency? Go build houses in Haiti?"

"Haiti," he repeated, his lips twitching slightly. "Really."

"I could do it," she said defensively.

"Mmhmm…" he murmured skeptically. He laced his fingers within both her hands. "You'd ruin these hands of yours."

She let go of his hands to run fingers along the palm of her own. Though they were barely visible, she could feel her old tennis callouses in her palm, like hard little secrets, lurking just under her skin.

"You used to dream about going to Tokyo University, remember? In middle school, it was all you wanted."

She exhaled, looking over the vast ocean. "There was a time that I used to dream about playing in the French Open too, but…" She lifted and lowered a shoulder indifferently.

Some dreams you simply outgrew with time.

"I was really looking forward to going to Tokyo U with you," he whined into her ear. "They have private dorm suites as a housing option. I had all these plans. I was thinking champagne, bubble baths…"

She rolled her eyes. "When _haven't_ you thought about that sort of thing?"

He chuckled. "I also thought about mounting a projector in my room so we could watch movies on the ceiling."

That drew a genuine smile out of her. She turned her gaze on him, remember the tender moment they shared in the planetarium. Her finger stroked along his cheek. She said softly, "You talk about it like we have a future."

He ran his fingers through her hair. "I can hope, can't I?" There was a lightness to his words that made her relax, almost like it was a joke, all fun and games. And that was good, wasn't it?

"What brought this on? Why are you suddenly reconsidering this?" he suddenly asked.

"I just… I don't want to be shoehorned into a path." '_I'm so, so sick of the path._'

Tokyo University was on that path.

Any sort of future with him was not.

"Well, it does upset me greatly to think that I'll be spending next year without you." He moved his hands securely around her waist. "But I think you should do what makes you happy."

She thought of Eri.

'_If I was strong enough, I'd leave too. Throw it all away._'

But she was far too comfortable in her life of luxury. She needed it, needed her parents' money, needed that million-dollar-inheritance of a safety net. It was a hard life, and there were too many strings attached, but at least it was pre-chartered. Mapped. And absolutely certain.

"I don't know," she said, her voice threatening to tremble. "I don't know."

He rested his head against hers. "You'll figure it out."

**~x~**

They stood like that out there for a while longer. She liked it out there, where it was quiet, private. Just her and him and the ocean. They reluctantly headed back inside when the night air got too chilly.

"Shigohara."

She stiffened when she heard Atobe say her name. Oshitari's hand tightened around hers protectively.

But Atobe only tossed a small object her way, and she caught it in her hand. It was the car key.

She lifted her eyes to his apprehensively. "What's the catch, Atobe?"

He looked like he was about to say something, then changed his mind. "Just… Just take care of her."

There was almost a smile on her lips. "I will."

He nodded once before walking away.

**~x~**

After that, they didn't talk about Tokyo University, and they didn't mention the argument between her and Atobe.

Instead, they danced. They drank wine and champagne. They made circles around the room, and talked with powerful people. They watched Kabaji encounter a hot streak at the craps table, with Eri encouraging his every move. They stared in disbelief as Choutarou won over and over at five-card-stud – what was with that kid's mad poker skills? And then they danced some more.

Then Atobe proffered a key to the presidential suite, and they adjourned there for some peace and quiet, away from prying eyes and questions and stifling conversations.

After a bit of small talk, Minako made an excuse about getting another drink, and Oshitari rose to join her.

With a cautious glance behind her, she pulled Oshitari to the side.

"You know the mini-bar is the other way, right?" he questioned, but followed her regardless.

She found the deluxe bathroom and locked the door behind them, causing him to raise his eyebrows. "Hey," she said, placing her hands against his shirt. "What you did for me earlier—"

"You don't have to thank me," he said automatically, his hands on her forearms.

She paused. Smirked. "Well, I think I do," she said, her hand moving behind his head. She pulled him down to bring his mouth crashing on hers.

He'd done something extremely kind for her, and Minako did not like feeling indebted to others.

She didn't have much to offer, but at least for a few moments, she could indulge him in this. Let him kiss her, let him unzip the side of her dress to slip his hand inside, let him feel the heat of her skin beneath his palm.

And – she thought as he lifted her onto the marble counter, his lips on her neck, his fingers grazing her leg – if she was being completely honest, she was indulging herself as well.

These stolen moments could only be short lived. He was the first to pull away, after a few minutes, as if hearing an internal timer. "They'll be missing us if we don't return soon…" he said with barely controlled breaths.

She was tempted to say, "Let them," and pull him back for another kiss, but…

If they left the private suite together, just the two of them, without the accompaniment of Atobe and Nanao – well, the press would assume the worst. There wouldn't be quite a _scandal_, but it would stir up enough troublesome PR to put a stain on her otherwise clean reputation.

"You're right," she agreed, smoothing down her hair, zipping up the side of her dress "We should be getting back."

They took a few minutes to readjust their appearances. She retouched her makeup expertly, and he cleaned the lipstick residue off of his face and neck. When they reappeared before Atobe and Nanao, they were perfectly poised.

Nanao smiled at their return. "Did you find the bar okay?"

Minako exchanged a glance with Oshitari. "Yes," she said, hiding her smile. "Sorry, we decided to finish our drinks there."

Nanao, bless her naïve heart, didn't suspect a thing.

Atobe, on the other hand, shot Oshitari a look of positive disgust.

**~x~**

_A few moments later…_

"I'm going to the restroom."

"A-ah- but Keigo, there's a restroom right in this room."

"I _know._"

"Wait, but why are you going downstairs then-"

_SLAM._

**~x~**

As the night wore on, the party finally began to dwindle down. Oshitari led her onto the dance floor for one final dance. The jazz band strung up a slow waltz, and they twirled, hand-in-hand, cheek-to-cheek. As he was murmuring witty comments in her ear and she was trying to hold back her laughter, Minako couldn't help but think that despite everything that had happened, this was a rather perfect ending to an eventful evening.

Until Atobe came barreling towards them with all the discretion of a cannonball. "Yuushi. I need a ride home in your limousine."

Oshitari opened his mouth to deliver some sort of retort – really who did Keigo think he was, interrupting his romantic moment – but then his eyes caught on his expression. He let go of Minako's hand. "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

His jaw was locked, his eyes were narrowed and as dark as coal. Atobe was angry, angry at something.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that that something was Nanao. Her absence was just as obvious, if not even more so, than her presence.

If it were anyone else, Oshitari would've waved them off so he could spend more time withher, but – but this was _Keigo_. He sighed and said, "Hold on," and pulled her aside for a moment. Said apologetically, "Is it okay if Keigo hitches a ride with us?"

She glanced at Atobe, then back at him.

Minako was fairly certain if she said, "No," that Oshitari would listen to her. But something about the tightness in Atobe's face gave her pause.

Tonight, Atobe had already lost his beloved Elizabeth, and from what she deduced, possibly Nanao as well. She didn't need to take away his best friend too.

That would be— _heartless, _wouldn't it?

She sighed wearily and said, "You two can go ahead. I can ride back with my parents."

"Are you sure—"

"_Go_."

He gave her a grateful kiss on the cheek, before leaving with him. Atobe glanced back at her, once, and she lifted her chin very slightly.

She did not like feeling indebted to others, after all.

**~x~**

Per usual, Sunday was a day of recovery from the mistakes of the previous evening. Minako woke up in the afternoon to a pounding in her head and an aching in her limbs. At her breakfast (though it could hardly be called breakfast at two in the afternoon) she gulped down three cups of her grandmother's patented hangover cure – and nearly hurled it up. Oshitari was right, that stuff was _revolting._

Her father stopped by the dining room to present the Sunday paper to her. On page 9, the paper had printed a picture of their sweet kiss on the red carpet. Which, for once, was a bigger picture than the one of Atobe Keigo and Suzuki Nanao.

Her father smiled. Said, "Good work," in a satisfied tone that made Minako feel like she might throw up, all over again.

She spent the rest of the day in bed.

Monday rolled around soon enough.

Now that college acceptances were in, classes had become somewhat of a formality. Though there were still some final projects and tests left, the pressure for academic success had significantly lessened. Minako was free to focus on other things in her life. Most notably, tennis.

"Regulars, you're expected to report to the weightlifting room at seven a.m!" she said at their pre-practice pep talk. "Don't let me catch you slacking. You can be sure that Rikkaidai won't be."

The loss to Rikkai in the Kantou quarterfinals had certainly shaken their confidence. Nationals was just around the corner, and Minako intended to pay them back a thousand fold for that.

As the team members started their laps, some of the spectators from the stands cheered them on with the Hyotei chant: "_The winner will be Hyotei, the winner will be Hyotei!_"

Recently, there had been a new addition to the bleachers.

Nanao had been in some sort of argument with Atobe ever since the Hanazono yacht party. Minako wasn't quite sure on the details. Oshitari had mentioned something about Nanao studying abroad, but she couldn't fathom why Atobe would be such a drama queen over something so trivial. Regardless, the result was that Nanao was now watching the girls' tennis team practice, rather than the boys.

Practice that day was fairly typical. She had her regulars do multiple drills, footwork exercises, and forehand swings. Halfway through practice, she assigned them to practice matches, slotting herself against Fuuma Eri.

"Roger that. By the way," Ayumi commented with a raised eyebrow. "It looks like you've got yourself a shadow, Shigohara-buchou."

Minako glanced behind her.

"Minako-san… " Nanao had walked onto their courts, wringing her hands timidly. "Um… Can I talk to you for a moment?"

She looked at Eri. "Would you mind—"

"Don't worry about it. I'll play Kurakano." Eri added in low voice only Minako could hear, "She could use an ass-kicking, anyways."

As her teammates dispersed across the courts, Minako turned back to her. "Nanao." She pushed her hair back from her face, trying not to look too annoyed. "What can I do for you?"

"Um… I'm sorry to bother you. It's just that Yuushi-kun seems like he's upset today, so I was wondering if you knew what was bothering him?" She fiddled with her hands nervously.

Minako stared blankly. "What?"

"Oh. Um. He just seems… unhappy today?" The words came out in a jumbled rush. "It's just that Keigo's still upset with me, so I've been talking to Yuushi-kun a lot, but today he looked sort of annoyed and I wasn't sure if it had to do with Keigo or me or something else…" She looked at Minako for help.

"I'm sorry," Minako said, a little coldly. "I wouldn't know anything about that."

"Oh." Nanao looked just a little bewildered. "Then, I'm sorry for disturbing you." She shuffled her way back to her spot on the bleachers.

Minako frowned, trying to recall how Yuushi had acted earlier in the classroom. Had he seemed unhappy? She hadn't been able to tell. She'd been so focused on tennis and Nationals that she hardly noticed anything else.

She pulled out her phone and sent him a quick text.

_Hey._

A second later, it popped back.

_Hey._

She frowned again. Yuushi had a strange affinity for texting with various colorful emoticons and stickers. The fact that this text didn't even have a _smiley_ _face _was an clear indication that something was wrong.

She started to type '_Is everything okay, do you want to talk_' but stopped halfway through. She rolled her eyes and backspaced through the draft.

They didn't… _do_ things like that. As far as dependency went, their relationship had floated on the surface-level. They didn't have that deep sort of connection that Atobe and Nanao.

Real couples told each other things. Shared the pain and suffering, shouldered the burden for one another. They didn't do that.

Wasn't that a good thing, though? It meant that they weren't involved that deeply. And that could only be good news.

Why should she even bother, then? It wasn't like he expected her to.

But then she thought of the way he'd stolen Elizabeth the Third for her, and taken her to a secret spot by the ocean. She thought of how he'd rented out the entire planetarium just so they could watch a movie together. She thought of how Nanao let slip that he'd been picking up more classics to read, despite his preference for much tackier fiction.

All to make her smile.

'_Damn him._' She let out a long, exasperated sigh. Called out, "Wait, Nanao."

Nanao turned around in surprise.

Minako took brisk steps forward, meeting her at the bottom of the bleachers. She shrugged a little. Clasped her hands together. Said reluctantly, "What should I do?"

"What?"

"To cheer him up," Minako clarified. "What should I do?"

"What?" Nanao said again, stunned.

At this, Minako shot her a displeased look.

Nanao blushed. "S-sorry. I.. um, I was just surprised that you were asking me."

'_So am I,_' Minako thought with mild irritation. She curled and uncurled her fingers around her tennis skirt, and finally admitted quietly, "I'm not very good with this sort of thing."

Nanao couldn't remember the last time she saw Minako look so uncomfortable, so frazzled. It was oddly endearing. "Well," she prompted, hiding a giggle, "What do you do when your friends are sad?"

"Tell them to get over themselves," she said honestly.

Nanao winced.

Minako shrugged again, and offered, "When Eri's feeling down, I take her out for a manicure." _'And make her file her nails into points so she could scratch her mother's eyes out, if necessary.'_

"I'm not sure Yuushi-kun would enjoy a manicure."

"No," Minako agreed. "Probably not."

Nanao laughed. "It's shouldn't be that hard. Just do something that he likes."

Minako raised a sharp eyebrow in amusement.

Nanao turned bright red and stammered. "I… I wasn't talking about _that…_ Um, not _that._"

Her lips quirked into a playful smile. "And what, pray tell, is '_that'_?"

Nanao turned even redder.

~x~

Oshitari Yuushi did not get upset easily.

In fact, he was usually very laidback. Life was easier to get through when you poked fun at the low points, laughed at the troubles.

However, much like most Hyotei students, Oshitari's parents really knew how to press his buttons.

He came from a long line of doctors. Though his father had transitioned from physician to businessman, he retained the discerning eye of a surgeon, the brisk professionalism of doctor. Oshitari Eiji achieved his success through ruthless drive and astute skill – traits that he expected his son to display, at all times.

A slip-up was not so easily forgiven. Doctors could not afford to make mistakes.

Yesterday, Oshitari had gotten some medical term wrong at his internship. It wasn't supposed to be a big deal, but his supervisor had mentioned it to his father. And then his father had given him a strict reprimand on how he should spend more time perusing physiology textbooks and less time perusing his girlfriend's legs.

Oshitari didn't quite have the heart to tell his father that she wasn't really his "girlfriend." Or rather, that he'd asked and she'd refused. His pride still ached from that. He'd tried to define whatever they were – and she'd thrown his definitions back in his face.

Add that to Keigo's new drama with Nanao, and having to serve as a middleman between the two of them while he couldn't even figure out the status of his own relationship…

That was more than enough to put him in a state of annoyance.

To his surprise, when he got home from his internship, drained and exhausted, he found none other than Shigohara Minako sitting on a couch in his room like she owned it.

"Minako," he said, taking off the white lab coat. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

She crossed her legs. "A little birdy told me you were having a bad day."

"I've had better ones," he acknowledged, his smile somewhat stiff. He wasn't irked that she was here, but really, she could have chosen a better time to visit.

"Why don't you sit down, and we'll see about turning this day around?" As she spoke, she rose to her feet, slinking over to him.

He stepped to the edge of the couch, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What are you doing here?"

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed. "Sit down."

"What are you doing?" he said again, warily, slowly lowering himself onto the couch.

She smirked, eyes in a predatory gaze. She perched herself onto his lap, her legs extended luxuriously across the couch. "You're going to sit here, and I'm going to feed you these." In her lap was a box of chocolate-covered strawberries.

"Oh god," he groaned in realization, trying to push her legs – her long and slender and _goddamned beautiful _legs – away. "This is a test, isn't it? You're testing me. Not funny, Minako." His hand went to her thigh, and he pushed halfheartedly. "Put those away."

"No test," she promised, holding up a strawberry, her voice breathy and seductive. "Now. Do you want a strawberry or not?"

He swallowed. Nodded slowly. "Yes."

With a sly smile, she placed the first strawberry in his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweet flavor.

Minako shook her head, giving him a sultry stare. "I think you can do better than that."

He shot her a look. This was a game, he suddenly realized. '_Oh Minako._' A smirk appeared on his face._ 'You don't know who you're playing with._ _I _invented_ this game._'

She held up the second strawberry to his lips. As he took it in his mouth, his tongue flicked against the tip of her finger.

She raised an eyebrow. '_Better, but is that really all you've got?_'

She put the third strawberry in his mouth, letting her fingers linger. He grazed his teeth against the skin on her middle finger, hearing her breath hitch deliciously in her throat.

"You've got chocolate on your hand," he murmured as she held up strawberry number four.

"It can't be helped. It's a messy food," she said, feeding him the strawberry. He caught her fingers between his lips. As she opened her hand, he turned his head to kiss the inside of her wrist. He ran his lips and tongue along the palm of her hand, kissing away the chocolate stains.

Her blood was racing, her breathing quickening. Oh, he was good at this game, yes he was. It was time to reestablish control.

As they moved onto the next piece of fruit, a piece of the chocolate shell cracked and fell, landing right below his collarbone. "Hold on," he said, reaching for the tissue box.

A hand on his arm stopped him. "Let me get it," she practically purred. She undid one of his buttons and then placed soft, open-mouthed kisses at the base of his neck, her tongue swirling against his skin.

Dear god, Oshitari thought, sinking his fingers into her hair, this must be what heaven felt like. This had to be heaven. Either that or hell.

Definitely hell. She was doing sinful things to his neck, sinful things with her tongue, and…

"Minako," he finally managed to say. "I don't think there's any more chocolate there."

"Sorry," she murmured, licking her lips. "My mistake."

She placed the next strawberry between her teeth, her eyes gleaming like those of a panther. He leaned in, biting half the strawberry off, their lips coming into mild, yet sizzling, contact.

'_Hot,_' he thought. Hot was her touch, hot were her lips, and he was burning up inside, burning and burning and wanting—

"Do you want this one?" She held it up tauntingly, before putting it her own mouth, making a come-hither gesture with her finger.

He needed no more invitation. He yanked her to him, his mouth hot and slanted over hers. She tasted of strawberry, then of chocolate, then of something else entirely. Her skin was searing beneath his palm, his hair tangled between her fingers.

As he broke away for air, he gasped, "Please tell me that there aren't any more strawberries."

She peered at the empty box in her lap. "No, but…" she said, stretching languidly, "I could send someone out there to fetch us some more…"

"No. No more." He wasn't sure he could take any more teasing.

She chuckled, trailing her hand down his jaw. "Well," she murmured. "I brought something else."

There was a glow to his eyes, half in anticipation and half in dread.

She reached into her bag… and to his utter confusion, pulled out a copy of _The Dark Rose._ "This is one of your favorite romance novels, right? I thought I would read to you."

There was an incredulous pause.

"You're going to _read_ to me?"

"Yes."

This was not happening. She was not going to just wound him up and then—

Minako flipped to a random page and started, "Ginta held his arms out to his one and only love, begging her silently with the promise of a lifetime together—"

She was actually reading – _reading_ to him. Oshitari's hands clenched into fists. "Put the book down, Minako," he growled.

She grinned and continued, "And then Amari cried, "I have always loved you, Ginta-kun! We'll make it work somehow!" As the sun set, she ran into his embrace…."

"I said, put it _down_—"

"…and Ginta swore to the moon and the stars that they would always be together-"

He knocked the book out of her hands.

"Oh Yuushi," she scolded, feigning irritation. "You really shouldn't treat such fine literature like that—" She was cut off as he all but tackled her to the ground, pinning her under his weight, his gaze heavy and smoldering.

Then he kissed her, kissed her until they were both breathless. Breathless from kissing, and then, for some strange reason, breathless from laughing.

"Hey," he said, pulling her into an upright position. He nestled his face into her hair. "Thanks."

She smiled.

"But-" he said darkly. "No more strawberries. That was more torture than anything else. If you pull something like that again, I won't be held responsible for my actions."

Stifling the last of her giggles, she said, "I did bring something else."

"Do I even want to know?"

"The video shop didn't have Titanic…" She searched her bag, pulling out a thin DVD case. "But I brought _The Notebook, _if you want to watch that?"

In surprise, he took the DVD in his hands, examining the two lovers on the cover. "This doesn't seem like it'd be your type of movie."

She lifted and lowered a shoulder. "I thought it might be your type of movie."

His eyes widened slightly. She was willing to sit through one of those rom-com movies – just for him? "Okay," he said after a moment. "Let's watch it."

He plugged the T.V in and slipped in the disk. They settled on his couch, his arm automatically looping around her waist. She tucked her legs to the side, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt warm – not hot like before, but warm.

Before, he never really understood the way Atobe and Nanao sat together, so closely, like they were two halves of the same person. If he ever was with Minako in such close proximity, well – there were a dozen different positions he'd rather have her in.

But now he realized… there was something nice about this sort of intimacy. He could get used to this. Watching a movie on the couch, with her tucked comfortably into his side, like she belonged there, like she was a matching puzzle piece.

He supposed he could even get used to her scathing commentary.

"This is stupid."

"Now every movie's trying to be Romeo and Juliet? What, they can't come up with anything original?"

"Why would you lie down in the middle of a road? Your hair would get so dirty."

"See that wasn't even in the book."

He froze at that comment. Then, he swiveled his head to face her, and said slowly, "What was that?"

"….nothing," she muttered, turning her face away. There was a faint blush on her cheeks. "Nothing."

He stared at her. "Oh my god," he breathed in realization. "You actually _read_ it."

"I did not—"

"Don't lie to me. You could even pick out the inconsistencies between the film and the novel."

She turned even farther away. Grumbled defensively, "It's basically a classic novel."

He laughed. "Minako," he said, eyes dancing with mirth. "Are you a closet romantic?"

He had to dodge as she threw _The Dark Rose_ at him.

**~x~**

End Chapter Seven

**A/N:** Holy mother-

If you made all the way here, mad props! This chapter was so fricking long.

Okay. YWISSG is getting more complicated than I originally planned, so it may end up being around 15 – 20 chapters long. Sorry guys. I'll try to keep things short and sweet, and not cram as much in each chapter -_-

Minako is definitely a tsundere type. I love her and Nanao's budding friendship.

Also, I realize that my chapters get so long because I write stuff about other people. Fuuma Eri had a rather large spotlight in this chapter. Whoops. I'll have to dial that back.

Sometimes I like to alter between using given names and surnames. Sorry for the inconsistency.

Accompanying images for this chapter will be posted to the **tcafs08** tumblr.


	8. Act III, Scene I

A/N: This chapter took me a month to write, on and off. So sorry if it's sporadic and doesn't flow very well.

Also, this chapter is probably the smuttiest YWISSG is ever going to get. Sorry to disappoint or offend.

Dedicated to the Jabberer because actual sex. YOU'RE WELCOME.

And to coffeelatte for being alive. Somewhere.

Also a lot of the following chapter was inspired by coffeelatte's It's All Greek, so if the writing style looks familiar... yeah, it's all because of her.

ALSO ALSO sketches of Oshitari and Minako and Atobe and Nanao are linked on my profile and on the tumblr.

**~x~**

_Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing._

_Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow_

_That I shall say good night till it be morrow._

_-_William Shakespeare_, Romeo and Juliet_

****~x~****

By the following week, something in their relationship had changed.

They'd always been a rather _intimate _couple, and certainly didn't shy away from the physical aspect of their relationship.

She wasn't sure if he'd started being more aggressive in his advances, or she'd stopped fending them off entirely. She suspected that their time together on that Monday afternoon, henceforth known as ("The Strawberry Incident,") was probably the tipping point.

Whatever the reason, when it came to physical urges, their self-control had diminished severely.

At school, they would find a few minutes – during lunch, between classes, during free period – where they would sneak off together. An empty computer lab, a corner on the roof, or when Elizabeth The Third was parked conveniently in the school lot…. Even the student council lounge on one occasion where poor Nanao had nearly walked in on them.

In Minako's defense, the student council couch was much more comfortable than the desk in the lab room.

It was quite a wonder that they had yet to sleep together.

Though, with them, it wasn't so much a question of '_if_' as it was of '_when_.' Oshitari had certainly dropped half a dozen innuendos in the last week. And it wasn't so much that Minako was reluctant about it (oh, definitely not) – it was more so that she rather enjoyed being a tease.

(From the way they were acting lately, she suspected that the moment was about to happen anyways.)

Today, their venue of choice was the girls' clubhouse after hours. She was sitting on his lap, her legs on either side of him. His shirt had already been discarded on the floor, and his hands were underneath hers, causing the material to bunch up.

Her fingers traced a line down his spine, feeling every dip and groove, traveling down the ridges of his muscles, leaving what felt like a trail of fire in their wake.

He caught her deviously wandering hand, kissed the underside of her wrist, and then returned it to her. "We should… we should stop…" he managed. Any more of this, and he'd have her naked and pushed up against the wall in an instant.

"Why?" she asked, kissing along his jaw.

"Because…" he said between the meeting of their lips, his breathing harsh and erratic, "It'll be harder to stop later…"

She pressed her lips underneath his chin. Murmured, "Then don't stop."

He pulled back, looking at her incredulously. "…here?"

She locked her legs around his waist, making him inhale sharply, and smirked. "Why not?" Everyone else had already gone home, and the door to the clubhouse was bolted shut.

He could feel his self-control start to wither. "I… I just imagined this differently," he said honestly, eyes closing as her lips began to accommodate his neck. "Champagne… rose petals… Tchaikovsky playing in the background…"'

She laughed under her breath, her fingers tracing lines on his torso. "It's not like we're still kids in middle school," she said, with a little shake of her head. "It doesn't have to be some big, special moment." She said the word 'special' like it carried a bad taste in her mouth. "Why are you making this into such a big deal?"

"With you, it's different." One hand cupped the side of her face, and he turned her face so she was looking into his eyes. "Isn't it?" he asked, his thumb tracing the line of her lip.

She blinked blankly. "It's not to me."

_It's not to me._

For a moment, he just looked at her with a faint sort of disbelief as the words sunk in. Then he exhaled, pushed her hand away, and moved her off of him.

"Wait- Seriously? Now I've _upset_ you?"

"No." He snatched his shirt up from the floor, and buttoned it up. "I'm just not in the mood for this anymore."

She gave him a skeptical look, crossing her arms. "You expect me to believe that."

He lifted a shoulder. Said flatly, "I guess I shouldn't expect anything from you."

She bristled at the hidden bite to his words. "You-" she started, and then she sighed, her face softening. "Look. I think you're starting to want more than what I can offer you." _We can't get in too deep._

In actuality, all relationships were very simple.

They only got complicated when two people wanted different things.

"I don't want a boyfriend, okay?" she said. "All I want is this."

He was silent for a long moment. "What are you saying?" he finally demanded, his voice sharp like a whip. "That I'm just like any other one of your hookups?"

"You know that's not what I meant." Her voice was soft and resigned. "It's just… This isn't going to work if you keep trying to make this into something it's not."

His jaw locked tightly, and she was positive he was going to argue, to disagree. "You're right," he suddenly said after a tense pause, surprising her. "You're right." A longer pause. "Maybe we should end this, then."

_Wait._

…_What_?

Her eyes suddenly widened, and there was a strange tightness forming in her chest. "Is that… really what you want?"

"Isn't that what _you_ want?" he shot back, his tone dark and accusatory.

She stared at him silently.

'_No. That's not what I want._'

For a moment she really considered saying it.

Instead, she turned to the side. Forced a smile, an even tone, and said, "I guess it's for the best. "

_We're already too involved._

_The path ends here, __Yuushi._

"We… had a good run, Yuushi." She hesitated, as if wondering if she still had permission to touch him, before placing a hand on his shoulder. The bone and muscle felt foreign underneath her palm. Funny how just moments ago she was eager to map every inch of his skin out with her fingers. "I'll… see you around."

As she walked out of the door, he had the compelling urge to say "Wait, don't go, I'm sorry, we'll work this out—", to take her in his arms and cling onto whatever it was they had— but his pride was already far too bruised.

He watched her walk away silently.

**~x~**

It was a good time to end it, she thought. She couldn't have let it gone on for much longer.

The deeper they were involved, the deeper the wounds would be when this farce came to an end. Because God forbid that they actually started _caring about each other_…

Yes, it was a good time to end it, Minako thought to herself as her family sat down for yet another uncomfortable dinner. (She really needed to start extending practice time or take up another hobby to avoid these. Wasn't the curling team calling for tryouts?)

"Well," her father said as he read yet another article about the two of them. "You finally got yourself a bit of P.R with Oshitari. I was starting to question your competence."

Minako's fingers tightened around her dinner fork slightly.

Her father skimmed over the rest of today's newspaper disinterestedly. "See to it that he escorts you to the Kurosawa masquerade ball, and maybe you can edge young Atobe out of the paper entirely."

She took a nonchalant sip of her drink. "Well, that won't work. Oshitari dumped me today."

Her mother's mouth dropped open. Her father lowered the paper, steely eyes fixed on her. "What was that?"

"He dumped me." She added in a casual shrug for good measure.

Her mother exchanged a panicked look with her father that clearly said, '_How is that possible?_' Minako had to admit, the utter shock on her mother's face was rather satisfying to see.

"And why is that?"

She took an apathetic sip of her water. "He and I wanted different things."

"We're in the final stages of prepping for this lawsuit. Right now, you _need_ to keep his family distracted so we—"

"So you can compromise your corporate and moral ethics?" Minako interrupted, a note of disgust in her voice. She didn't know exactly what kind of underhanded and unsavory tricks her father used when gathering ammunition for a lawsuit, but she was fairly certain that all of it was illegal.

How ironic.

Her father drew in a breath. Said, with a deadly calm tone, "You better find a way to fix this, Minako."

"But I told you, he and I want different th-"

"Until I say so," her father said cuttingly, "You will want the same things he wants."

"Then what about my clean reputation?" Minako asked. It was clear what she was implying.

"Have I taught you nothing?" her mother said in exasperation. She made a suggestive gesture, and said in a lower voice, "You can raise a man's hopes without _satisfying_ them."

"Of course," Minako said, venomously pleasant. "That's how you got Father to marry you, after all."

Her mother's jaw dropped again, this time at her audacity.

Her father's eyes were narrowed, his lips curled. He said softly, menacingly, "Say that one more time."

Minako did not speak. She did not dare.

"You _will_ fix this, Minako."

Underneath the table, her hands clenched, nails digging into her palm. Outwardly, she tilted her head into a nod with the utmost indifference.

The miserable truth of it all was that she would never defy her father. She may be snarky and flippant and downright insolent at times, but when it came down to it, she was disgustingly obedient. Daddy's little girl.

'_Coward_,' she thought to herself as she glared at her dinner plate. See, she didn't even have the nerve to glare into his eyes. '_You coward_._'_

She wondered what he would do if she refused to obey. Would he beat her? Take a cane to her back, like Eri's mother did to her? She wouldn't put it past him.

But her father had no use for canes or bamboo sticks. He'd wear her down with poisonous words and implied threats and eventually, without lifting a finger, bend her to his will.

**~x~**

Every week or so, Nanao and Minako would meet up for lunch. It'd started not long after the Hanazono yacht party. Nanao enjoyed their odd sort of friendship (though Minako wouldn't go so far to say they were _friends. _It was more like they reached a civil understanding.)

Which, incidentally, meant that Nanao's peers were increasingly awed by her '_elevated social status_.' Though being Atobe Keigo's girlfriend had more or less granted her First Lady status at Hyotei…

Shigohara Minako was a queen in her own right, and an audience with her was like stepping foot onto the Oscars red carpet – it did not go unnoticed.

While her friends weren't clambering eagerly for her every word about what dating Atobe Keigo was like, they eyes were bright and curious when they asked:

"What is Shigohara-san like?"

"Is she really as mean as they say?"

"She just seems so cold." One girl actually _shivered_.

"No! She's…" Nanao hesitated to use the word '_nice_' because Shigohara Minako was most definitely not '_nice,_' at least, not in the conventional way, but…

But there was something about her – behind the cutting remarks and icy glare that made Nanao think, underneath it all, she had a kindhearted soul. She was just extremely determined to hide it, and Nanao found this… kind of endearing.

"She's… I… I like her," Nanao finally fumbled with a little blush. "I think she's really cool."

And then her friends would sigh, and some would make envious remarks on how Nanao wedged her way into Shigohara Minako's airtight social circle.

Though that was a bit of an overstatement. Minako still spent most of her time with the girls on the tennis team, and one or two of the most glamorous students from student council. It wasn't like she and Nanao were having sleepovers and braiding each other's hair.

But, every now and then, Nanao would receive a text that said something along the lines of,

New message from: _Shigohara Minako_ at 11:24PM

_Lunch in fifteen minutes. I'll pick you up._

prompting Nanao to immediately cancel her plans (if she had any.) Minako would then pull up at the Suzuki's doorstep in her chauffeured limousine, like today, and take them to one of the posh boutique cafes.

It appeared that Shigohara Minako had a standing reservation at all the best restaurants in the Tokyo Metropolitan area, as she just strode past the long line of waiting people and was immediately seated by the staff.

"So," Minako said, once they'd ordered and their drinks had arrived. "What's the deal with you and Atobe?"

"I think… I think he's still angry with me."

"You think?" Minako's tone carried a touch of a scathing note.

Nanao stared at the glass of orange juice in her hands shamefully. "He's still angry with me."

Minako rolled her eyes. "He's such a drama queen. It's been nearly two weeks, hasn't it?"

Nanao nodded dejectedly. "One week and four days. What if…" she continued in a small voice, "What if he's angry with me forever?"

"Please. It's Atobe. He doesn't have that kind of attention span."

Despite everything, Nanao giggled a little.

"I think you should punish him."

Her eyes went wide. "P-punish?" she squeaked.

"Mmhmm," Minako said, lazily swirling her straw in her drink. "He's treating you poorly, and he ought to pay for that."

Nanao looked down at her hands, where her fingers were twisted into knots. "But… but it's my fault…"

"_Nanao_."

Her head snapped up.

Minako's eyes skimmed over her, clearly seeing that she didn't have a single mean bone in her body. She sighed. "Fine. Just make sure you look particularly gorgeous at the Kurosawa ball. He'll either hate himself for not having you, or want you back." She smirked, her eyes holding a dark twinkle. "Win-win."

It was obvious she was speaking from experience. Nanao blushed again. "It's just… um… Keigo used to choose all my dresses… so…"

Minako raised an impressed eyebrow. "Really? His taste wasn't half bad," she drawled. Then she fixed Nanao with a glare. "Don't ever tell him I said that."

Nanao laughed.

"I'll take you shopping," Minako decided firmly. "I need a gown myself."

"I would really appreciate that, Minako-san," Nanao said gratefully. "Is Yuushi-kun accompanying you to the masquerade ball?"

She noticed something shift on Minako's face, like a fleeting shadow.

"We're not…" Minako paused, took a delicate sip of her drink, and said, oddly pleasantly, "We're over."

"W-what?" Nanao said in disbelief, jaw dropping. "But… why?"

Minako did one of her signature shrugs. Even a shrug was so elegant on her shoulders, Nanao noted wistfully.

"But… I thought you liked him!"

A long silence. "I do," she said, very softly, and Nanao wondered if this was the first time she was admitting that to anyone – even herself. "I do like him."

"Then why can't you work things out?"

Another shrug, but this one looked lonelier than the previous one.

Nanao could hardly believe what she was hearing. This was _Shigohara Minako_ and _Oshitari Yuushi_. If there ever was a couple that was meant for one another, it was them. Nanao couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but it was in the way they looked at each other. There was something special, something special about the way they could make each other smile, like they were in on a secret joke.

"Things were going so well between you… I…" Nanao let her hands drop helplessly into her lap. "I don't understand."

"We don't want the same things. He wants a real relationship."

"You… don't?" Nanao asked.

"I don't," Minako said to Nanao, to _herself._ "I don't."

She didn't seem _sad_, Nanao thought, but she certainly wasn't turning cartwheels over it. She just seemed… less, if that made any sense. Lesser.

Defeated. That was it.

Nanao wanted to ask her exactly what had happened, and help her through it. But people like Keigo and Minako-san and even Yuushi-kun… they came with barriers and walls. And there were times that she could try to climb over them, and there were times where she just had to stand back and let them crumble on their own.

And she had never been put in that sort of position before. Keigo had asked her to become his girlfriend nearly the minute she confessed, so she'd forgotten that other people's relationships progressed differently.

So, really, who was she to say anything?

"If there's anything I can do," Nanao blurted out, reaching for Minako's hand. "Just let me know."

Minako's eyes softened, ever so slightly.

**~x~**

"Well?" her mother demanded later that evening.

Minako raised and lowered a shoulder.

"Figure out how to get Oshitari back soon," her mother said. "Or else your father is going to be upset."

If her father wasn't happy, it meant that no one else could be happy.

"I know," Minako said reluctantly. "I know."

**~x~**

That night, she tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep. At around half-past one, she gave up and just stared at the ceiling.

That was the problem with nighttime. She lived in a house where all emotions were bottled and packaged away. At night, with doors closed and curtains shut, and everyone unassumingly asleep, that's when she could finally let herself feel.

Night was when demons came out to play, after all.

She let herself be angry at her father, at her mother. She let herself be frustrated with Eri and her pride and every scar on her back. She even let herself envy Atobe and Nanao, just a little bit. Not that there was much to be envious about, but their relationship seemed so simple...

She let herself feel guilty. About Oshitari. About what she was doing to him. About what she would _continue_ to do to him, should he take her back.

(And then, for the briefest moment, she even let herself want him.)

But, she reminded herself, it wasn't as if Oshitari was a completely innocent victim.

He was certainly aware of his good looks, and how devilishly charming he could be, and he put that to good use. She'd seen even the toughest girls melt at his low drawl, seen how he could reduce the most intelligent girls in her year to giggling simpletons with a single smile.

If there was a heartbreaker in this relationship, it was him. Not her. She always got out before it was too late.

But as much as she denied it, he _was_ different to her. She had never felt guilty over leading other people on, never thought of seducing any other of her father's business contacts as a sin.

'_Because you care about him_,' she told herself. Then she added firmly, '_As a friend. He's your friend._'

Though, the Strawberry Incident alone had catapulted him out of the friend zone.

She stared at the empty space in her bed, and thought about how much she wanted him, right now, here, next to her.

She wanted him. Hell, she might as well admit it. Who would judge her at this hour of the night?

Sex was by no means important to her, but she preferred to go about her indiscretions with a certain amount of class. She'd only slept with a small handful of boys, and all of them had been from different districts, or lesser-known schools in the Tokyo region. Certainly no one that could be traced back to her family, or more importantly, her father's corporation.

She had a snow-white reputation to maintain.

Minako did not enjoy mixing business with pleasure. Even when she was "entertaining" her father's business connections, she set strict boundaries, clear lines that could not be crossed.

Oshitari had blurred those lines from the beginning.

She touched her mouth, recalling how his kisses felt.

She wondered how it would feel, to have him pressed up against her, his bare skin on hers. She wondered how it would feel to hear him breathing in her ear, his hands sliding against her, his legs tangled in between hers. She wondered what kind of secrets he would whisper into her skin. How that would feel.

The word '_hot' _came to mind. She couldn't resist a smile.

Well, that was no surprise. The other boys had felt hot too. With them, she'd felt powerful, in control. But with Oshitari…

It was like she was falling. Plummeting off of a tall cliff, with no direction and no way to stop or break her fall. It was terrifying.

But oh, the thrill – the sheer _thrill_ of the fall. It was breathlessly glorious. That feeling alone nearly made it all worth it.

Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to ask him to take her back.

Tomorrow, she finally decided. Tomorrow, she would swallow her pride.

**~x~**

Oshitari did not like to think of himself as a player. Perhaps a 'connoisseur of women' would be more accurate. Yes. He rather enjoyed thinking of himself as an expert on the subject.

Women were divine creatures, and, well— he was naturally drawn to beautiful things. Curves that begged to be stroked, legs that never ended, bold lips that invited his own.

God, he loved women, and he made no apologies.

Oshitari liked delving into a good romance novel, and a tough tennis match could make adrenaline rush through his veins, but there were few things he found to be more satisfying than exploring a woman's body. He'd flirted with many, dated several, all of which were exquisitely stunning. He'd even bedded a number that he was, very covertly, proud of.

But this was _Minako_. He'd always enjoyed her company, on more than just the physical level. They were always more than that.

She deserved more. At the very least, she deserved to be laid out on a bed with silk sheets as opposed to being pushed up against the wall of a sweaty locker room.

That feeling, however, was apparently not mutual. To hear her tell him that he was just like any other boy she'd been with…

It'd hurt. He was surprised at how much it'd hurt, surprised at the humiliation that had welled up within him, seemingly out of nowhere.

Why did he feel that way? Wasn't this all supposed to be a game to begin with?

He started the relationship because… well, to be frank, he'd gotten pretty bored with his life. He'd bulldozed Atobe and Nanao into that fake relationship, which turned out to be a rather successful social experiment (if he did say so himself.) But ever since Atobe and Nanao had started dating for real, the two were constantly in each other's company.

And it wasn't that he was jealous or lonely, but more so that their antics weren't as amusing as they were before.

Minako became a new source of entertainment, he supposed. She was so adamantly against the idea of romance that he thought it might be amusing to turn the tables on her, to make her fall in love, just to prove that he could.

And then? Well, he hadn't thought that far. Maybe he'd stay with her. Maybe he'd leave her.

The point of it was that he would have control.

He tried to concentrate on novel in his hands, but the text blurred together into meaningless gibberish. Irritated, he snapped the romance novel shut with a _swish._

He was angry that she'd hurt him, angry that he'd _let_ her hurt him.

God dammit, he'd even asked her to be his girlfriend. Did she think that he made such offers lightly?

It was a petulant, childish urge, but he needed to prove that she meant nothing to him. And he decided to do that in the only way he knew how.

By finding himself another girl.

**~x~**

It was almost too easy.

Oshitari had nearly forgotten how irresistibly charming he could be to other girls (considering that Minako seemed to have little trouble resisting him.)

For the next few class periods, he leveled a few smiles at Yoshida, one of the prettier girls on student council. Between classes, he leaned over her desk and made mindless small talk, his voice low and secretive. And when he fixed a particularly smoldering look on her eyes, he knew that she'd swallowed the hook – all he had to do was reel her in.

Yoshida wasn't as stunning as Minako was, but she had nice-enough legs and long black hair that swished as she walked. And she was rather good at kissing, he found, as he took her to a dark corner of an empty lab room and pressed his body against hers.

For one brilliantly selfish moment, he thought – maybe this could work. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend that she was Minako, it was _Minako_, with him.

Because if he was just another boy to Minako, then Minako was just another girl to him. Easily replaceable. Someone to satisfy his carnal needs.

But then he'd opened his eyes.

The urge, the lust was gone. Replaced by an unsettling, unpleasant feeling. Disappointment.

This wasn't what he wanted.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly said, pulling away. "I can't do this."

"Oh, really." Yoshida smiled, hooking her arm behind his head. "Because it seems to me that you _can_."

"No," he said, pushing her gently. "I'm sorry, Yoshida-chan. I can't." He shrugged her off. "I really can't."

Yoshida let her hands fall to her side, shooting him a narrow look. "Is this because of Shigohara?"

"No." It was partially a lie. "It's me. This… this just isn't what I want."

Yoshida stared for a moment. She let out a sigh of exasperation and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever you say, Oshitari."

**~x~**

After Yoshida left, he sat there alone in that empty room, trying to figure out what in god's name was the matter with him.

"_This just isn't want I want._"

Then what did he want?

Minako, he thought with a tortured sigh. _Minako._

God, he wanted her. He'd known it from the minute he first saw her. Her legs were supple and long and positively divine. She was a bundle of his preferences wrapped into one.

He hadn't known that she was different, then. He'd assumed that she was the same as all the other girls he'd chased (and occasionally chased him.)

After talking to her, he discovered her wit was sharp, her tongue was even sharper. Her refusal to fall for his seduction tactics amused him, and she had a few tricks of her own - it made her all the more alluring. Of course, his thoughts were slightly more innocent back then – but even then he had urges - to taste the wit on her lips, on her tongue.

She would never be just a conquest to him. Never.

He wanted her.

He wanted to sleep with her. And then he wanted to do it again and again.

There was no doubt in his mind that she would be good in bed. He'd felt it when they'd kissed, that red-hot passion underneath that cool exterior. Deliciously paradoxical.

How very alike they were, he thought dryly.

This was killing him, _killing _him. In her absence, he was filled with so much wanting that it was starting to hurt. He needed her. It was as simple as that. He yearned, ached for her. Needed her more than he needed his pride.

With one last suffering exhale, he left the lab room in search for her.

**~x~**

"Thanks for locking up, Shigohara-buchou," Rie said, swinging her tennis bag over her shoulder.

"Good practice," Ayumi added, swiping her hand over her brow. "We're going to kill it at Nationals."

"And take down Rikkai for real," Gamaro said darkly. She and her partner Omae had lost in straight sets. (Not that Rie and Ayumi had a leg to stand on, either. They'd barely gotten a game off of the legendary Rikkai doubles pair.)

Eri was the last one to leave. "I'm going to head out first. I'll meet you at the library?"

Minako nodded, having promised to help Eri with her French paper. "I just need to gather some paperwork, but I should be there in half an hour."

In the clubhouse, Minako poured over a few possible lineups for the National Tournament. Sakaki-sensei's main job was coaching the boy's team, but he served as a supervisor for the girls' team as well. Minako made a note to have a sit-down with the coach soon, and shoved the papers in her bag.

She'd just finished locking up the door when she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her, nearly making her jump. "I'm sorry," a low, rolling voice murmured in her ear. "I'm sorry. I take it all back. We'll do things your way from now on."

Her back was to him, so he didn't see the way her features slackened in relief. "What made you change your mind?" she purred instead, turning her head to brush her lips against his jaw.

"I was with someone else today."

She stiffened very, very slightly.

"I'm sorry," he said again, nuzzling her cheek. "I was upset, and angry with you, and—"

"Yuushi," she said, turning to face him. She smiled a little, touching his face. "It's okay," she murmured reassuringly. "I'm not mad. I don't care about stuff like that."

He kissed her. Said whiningly, "Well, I wish you would care a little bit."

"Okay." She fixed him with a look. "Who was she?"

If he told her, there was a very slight possibility that Yoshida would end up in a body bag by the next day. He didn't want to take that chance. "It doesn't matter," he said mildly instead.

"Was it Ayumi? I always knew she had a thing for you."

"Minako, it really doesn't—"

"I mean, I don't _care_," Minako emphasized. "But I'm not above running her into the ground tomorrow—"

"_Minako_." Oshitari bit back a laugh. "It's not Ayumi, I'll tell you that much." He grazed his hand along her leg, and murmured, "As you know, she's not really my type."

She chuckled, pushing his hand away. "Hey," she said quietly, stroking his face. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Yes. Call me anything. Boyfriend, lover, hook up buddy, boy toy. I don't care. I just want to be with you right now. No matter the terms." He took her hand, brought it to his lips. "I don't want to lose you."

In that moment, she couldn't help but wonder exactly what she would have to do, _exactly what kind of despicable thing she would have to do_, to make him not want her anymore.

"So, do you have time now?" he asked huskily, his arms tightening around her waist. "Maybe we could revisit the locker rooms..."

"No. I have to help Eri with her French project, and then I need to get home to do my barre exercises." She tried to pull away, only to have him reel her back in, her back pressed against his chest.

"Mmhmm…" He pressed his lips to her neck, making her shiver.

"Seriously," she reprimanded weakly. "Mother's been berating me for not practicing enough and…" She gasped as his lips found the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder. "And I have…" Her head lolled back slightly, giving him more access. "I have a dance recital next week… and…" She breathed in sharply again as his lips continued their ministrations along her skin.

"Well… Okay…" she finally relented, eyes closing. "I guess Eri can wait for a little while..."

He laughed deeply as he pulled her around the corner and into the locker room.

**~x~**

New message from: _Shigohara Minako_ at 5:01PM

_It's fixed._

"It only took her two days," Shigohara Noburu said. "Impressive."

"Are you really that surprised?" Hana smiled. "She is my daughter, after all."

**~x~**

The texts started about five minutes after she wrenched herself out of his grasp (somewhat halfheartedly) and gotten herself to the library.

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi_ at 5:21PM

_I miss you already. :( :(__  
_

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi_ at 5:21PM

_Come over and we can finish what we started._

Minako concealed a laugh, her thumbs typing out a swift response.

New message from: _Shigohara Minako_ at 5:22PM

_Eri's French project isn't going to fix itself._

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi_ at 5:23PM

_Tell her it's a lost cause. The French only know how to do one thing properly. ;)_

New message from: _Shigohara Minako_ at 5:23PM

_Foie gras?_

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi_ at 5:24PM

_Fine, make that two things._

New message from: _Shigohara Minako_ at 5:24PM

_Croissants? Pain au chocolat?_

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi_ at 5:25PM

_Oh Minako, why do you always have to ruin the moment? :_

New message from: _Shigohara Minako_ at 5:27PM

_Now I'm hungry._

A minute later...

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi_ at 5:30PM

_Come over. I'll buy you a damn pastry shop._

Minako smiled to herself as she glanced down at her phone.

"Who are you texting?" Eri asked curiously, her eyes as sharp as a hawk.

"Yuushi," she admitted without looking up.

Eri felt a sly smirk appear on her face. "You seem happy."

Minako immediately adjusted her expression to that of an inscrutable frown. "Excuse me?"

Eri made a show of casually examining her perfect manicure. "I think he makes you happy."

Minako narrowed her eyes. "You think far too much."

"Well," Eri said mildly. "I do have an uncommonly high IQ. It would be a shame not to use it."

**~x~**

The sun had already set by the time they packed up their books.

Eri placed the French essay delicately into a folder, (an A paper, guaranteed, according to Minako) and turned to her friend. "Minako-buchou, do you want to get dinner?"

"Oh, I wish I could," Minako said apologetically. "I need to get home so I can do my barre exercises. I have a recital coming up and Mother's being very strict…"

"Of course," Eri said politely. "I understand."

"Shouldn't you get home too?" Minako asked, glancing at her watch. "It's getting late."

Eri shrugged her shoulders. Minako was reminded of how it looked like a machine making a tiny adjustment. Her voice was mechanically dull when she said, "I like to delay going home as much as possible."

Minako bit her lip. "You know what, Eri?" she said impulsively. "Let's… let's get dinner."

Eri's eyes lit up ever so slightly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Minako assured firmly, putting her hand over Eri's. "Then maybe we could go see a movie."

Eri must've heard the note of pity in her voice, because her response was an automatic, "Minako-buchou, you don't have to—"

"There's that new rom-com movie that I've been meaning to see," Minako interrupted as if Eri hadn't said anything. "And sitting in a movie theater alone is so awfully humiliating. So you'd be doing me a big favor."

There was a long pause. "Well… ok. If that's the case," Eri said with a small, grateful smile. "I suppose I could help you out."

**~x~**

New message from: _Oshitari Yuushi_ at 6:42PM

_Well, if you change your mind, call me. I'll be waiting. ;)_

New message from: _Shigohara Minako_ at 6:45PM

_I won't._

**~x~**

Minako knew she was in trouble before she'd even stepped onto her doorstep. There were two telltale signs of this:

1\. She'd missed family dinner without giving notice.

2\. There were seven missed calls from her mother.

She opened the front door as slowly and quietly as possibly, hoping she could sneak into her room without alerting anyone of her presence. Maybe she could even sneak to the ballet studio in her basement and pretend she was there all along.

Not a chance.

Her mother was waiting in the foyer, her hands on her hips. She looked downright furious. "Do you know what time it is?"

She gave the exquisite vintage wall clock an obligatory glance, despite knowing it was well past ten p.m. "I know. I'm sorry."

"You should've been home hours ago."

"Mother, I'm sorry," Minako said again as she pulled off her blazer. "I got hung up at the library with Eri."

"Your recital is less than a week away, and I will not stand to have this family humiliated. We expect absolute perfection."

'_What else is new_?' Minako thought with a grim smile. Her mother's words felt like barbs in her side. "_I know_. It's fine, I'll just do my barre practices now." As she spoke, she twisted her hair into a high bun.

Shigohara Hana's expression suddenly morphed into one of shock and outrage. She suddenly grabbed Minako by her shirt and yanked her over to the decorative mirror in the hall. "What the hell is this?" she demanded.

There was a reddish-purple mark on the crook of her neck that was previously hidden by her hair. "Oh, that," Minako said, touching it self-consciously. She hadn't even realized that Oshitari had left a mark there. "Oops."

Her mother released her forcibly. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Despite the way her palms had begun to sweat, she shrugged nonchalantly. "Umm… Yuushi isn't bad at kissing?"

"Stop that insolent tone of yours at once!"

Minako nearly flinched at the sharp tone in her mother's voice. Her expression darkened, but she remained silent.

"I am your _mother_," she said, taking a dangerous step forward. Her nostrils were flared in anger. "It's about time you started treating me with an ounce of respect."

Had this been her father, Minako would have cowered down immediately. But her mother had always been the weaker of the two, someone who could possibly be challenged, and overthrown. Minako drew herself to her full height, which was within an inch of her tall and thin mother. "And I always thought you and father _respected _my right to a private life."

"That was before you started advertising your promiscuity on your neck," her mother practically spat.

Her hand automatically went to the hickey on her neck. Her face burned a little. "Fine," she said flatly. "It won't happen again."

"It better not. Your father won't have you whoring yourself out to every business contact he has."

Minako suddenly felt a bolt of hot indignation. "Oh really?" she retorted, dripping venom. "Because it seems that's exactly what he wants."

Her mother glared. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"He's the reason I'm involved with Oshitari right now. _You_ are the reason that I've been acting like this. " Rage was a chained beast within her, and now it was starting to rattle the cage.

Her mother's gaze turned murderous. "Do not talk to me like—"

"You think I _like_ doing this?" Her voice rose in strained volume. "You think I like behaving this way?!"

Her mother's eyes flashed. "I will not be blamed for this."

Minako almost laughed. "You refuse to be blamed? You _taught _me this. You… _made_ me like this."

"Yes, to _tempt_ men, not to give in to them. Not to be easier than a five year old's homework."

Something within her was breaking, cracking – dimly she thought, '_No, you have a tighter reign on your emotions then this_._'_

But there was something incredibly insulting about how her mother judging her on promiscuity. Her mother, of all people, who had made conquests out of dozens of billionaires (and was even rumored to be briefly involved with one Atobe Akihiro, though that was never proven.)

"I'm not…" she started to say, the words strangled in her throat. '_I'm not like you._'

"For god's sake, Minako," her mother said, throwing up her hands, "All I'm saying is that you should stop behaving like such a slut. That's not what your father needs from you."

"Why would he," Minako shot back, her tone vicious. "Why would he need me, when he has you to do that for him?"

_CRACK! _Her mother backhanded her across the face, nearly knocking her to the ground.

Minako cupped her cheek, mouth open in hurt and astonishment. Her cheek stung.

It hadn't come as such as surprise. She knew that her sharp tongue would get her in trouble someday, and cause her parents to raise a hand against her. She just always assumed that her father would be the one to deliver the blow.

There was wetness on her face, and for a moment she wondered if she wasn't able to hold back the tears. Minako lifted her fingers away from her cheek. They were stained with red. Blood.

Her eyes went to the large diamond on her mother's finger. Her mother's wedding ring had cut her skin.

"Oh my god." Her mother clasped her hands around her mouth in horror. "Minako, honey, I'm so sorry, let me see that—" She stepped forward and Minako tried not to jerk away.

She inspected the cut on her face, stretching it slightly. "Good," she said with a sigh of relief. "That kind of cut won't scar. Thank god."

Minako stared back blankly.

"I'm so sorry, Minako," her mother went on. "I don't know what I was thinking. You would've never been hired for beauty shots if I had scarred your face like that."

…_What?_

Of all the glaring, dysfunctional, terrible problems that they had, right now, her mother's biggest concern was about whether her face would scar or not?

That's what she was, Minako realized. A commodity, an object. She'd spend her life cashing out on her appearance. As long as she was beautiful, that's all she was good for. Seducing business contacts, sitting pretty in pictures.

She suddenly felt disgusted, disgusted with the hollow superficiality of it all, disgusted with herself for perpetuating that ugly, shallow worth in beauty.

Her mother was stroking a finger along the cut absently. "Some concealer ought to cover this."

Beautiful, beautiful Minako—

She couldn't breathe.

It was like she was suffocating. Choking, like someone had wound their hands around her throat, squeezing until she felt like she was going to explode.

Darling Minako, pretty Minako, beautiful Minako—

Numbly, she pushed past her mother, ignoring her protests and cries, and ran out of the room. She could barely think. All she knew was that she couldn't stand to be in the house for one more second.

She needed to get out. Go somewhere else. Anywhere.

She needed to breathe.

**~x~**

It was just past eleven when his phone rang. Oshitari had been sitting in bed, finishing up another novel of a tragic romance.

"Well, look who's calling," he drawled smugly into the phone, leaning back on his bed. "There can't be that many things you need from me at this hour—"

"Can I come over? Right now?"

At her urgent tone, he sat up in concern. "Minako, what's wrong? What happened?"

Silence, and then a shaky breath. "Yuushi, all I need from you is a 'yes' right now. Please."

A pause. "Of course," he finally said. "I'll wait for you."

**~x~**

It wasn't long before he could hear the car pull up, hear her hurried footsteps against the pavement.

He opened the door just as she reached it. "Minako what—"

She broke him off with a kiss, her lips clashing against his in raw desperation. As she pulled away, she asked, "Can I stay here tonight?"

"What happened?" His eyes zeroed in on the cut on her cheek. "Did someone—did someone hurt you, Minako?"

He tried to reach for her face, but she flinched and pulled back."I don't need a therapist, Yuushi, I just need a place to stay." Her voice threatened to break. "Please."

"Of course you can stay. Come on." He reached out and took her hand, leading her. "Let's get you upstairs."

It was when she finally stepped into his bedroom that she realized where she was, and what she was doing. She took a seat on the corner of his bed, her arms wrapped loosely around herself, trying to stop shaking.

"There's a guest room down the hall," he offered haltingly.

"You don't want me here?"

"No, I do," he assured her gently, taking a seat next to her. He chuckled a little. "I obviously do. I just wasn't sure if you wanted to…" He stopped, and rephrased, "I just wanted to give you options."

She gave him a shaky smile with layers of ambiguity. "I'm fine here. Besides," she said in a stronger tone, tucking her legs onto the bed. "It's not as if we haven't spent the night together."

Though both of them knew that time in the planetarium had been absolutely different.

She wondered how many girls had tumbled in these very sheets. She wondered how many girls wanted to.

He leaned over and brushed his lips gently against her cheek. "You know," he murmured. "If you sleep in that, it'll get wrinkled and you won't be able to wear it to school tomorrow."

Despite everything, she smiled a little. "Is this your way of getting me out of my clothes?" Her hands, however, were trembling so much that she was fumbling with her buttons.

"Here," he said gently, wrapping her arms around her. "Let me." He undid the buttons one by one, with deft fingers. He peeled off her blouse and set it delicately on the chair beside his bed.

Her camisole was plain and white, and yet Oshitari found it incredibly erotic. It clung to her body, outlined her curves. "God, you're beautiful," he said breathlessly.

Something changed in her eyes. She tilted her head, and demanded softly, "Then kiss me."

He leaned forward and did that, one that was hesitant and innocent and angelic, poetic like the words of Shakespeare, the delicate brushing of two lips.

'_No,_' she wanted to snarl as he broke away, her fingers snaking through his hair. '**_Kiss _**_me.' _She needed _more _than that. She needed to feel his teeth, his tongue.

'_Kiss me, mark me, maim me._

_'__Make me yours.'_

Yet his kisses were still painstakingly slow and achingly gentle. His hand rested on the curve of her thigh, not caressing it, but reminding her of its presence with the heat and weight of it.

He was exercising restraint, she realized. Giving her a chance to say no. '_Oh,_' she thought patronizingly. '_That's cute._'

"Yuushi," she said against the tenderness his lips. '_I'm not a delicate little flower crippled with emotional vulnerability. You aren't taking advantage of anything._' "_Kiss _me."

And perhaps that was enough validation for him. A second later she was pinned down to the bed, his mouth at her throat, as if his last shred of self-control had been ripped from him. One hand slid down to grip her hip, nails digging into her skin.

'_Yes_,' she thought, her back arching upwards as his lips relentlessly attacked her neck, her collarbone. '_Just like that._' She needed this. She needed to feel wanted.

In the back of her mind, she knew that she was doing this for all the wrong reasons, but she pushed those thoughts away. Her mother had automatically assumed the worst of her, Minako thought bitterly, and who was she to disappoint?

'_Make me yours. Make me forget._'

She barely remembered what happened next. It was a whirl of passion and desire, his hands on her skin, his hips against hers, his fingers locking within hers. Her body responded to his touch like a piece of paper set aflame, twisting and writhing and crinkling as embers danced across it.

She did remember him kissing her forehead gently as he pulled the covers over both of them. He called her his sweet Juliet, before telling her to sleep well.

**~x~**

Minako the next morning, feeling unusually drowsy. She was typically a morning person, but today her head felt extra groggy, and her limbs protested her every movement. Her first thought was '_What on earth did I do last night?_'

That was when she turned her head and saw the sleeping Oshitari, his arm still draped across her.

'_Oh,_' she thought. '_Damn it._'

She gingerly lifted his arm off of her midriff and slipped out of the bed as stealthily as she could.

As she buttoned her blouse (which, thankfully, was unwrinkled) over her camisole, she noticed the red-purple marks trailing down the side of her neck, littered along her chest. For a minute, she debated on not buttoning the blouse much at all, so she parade these new love marks in front of her mother's face.

Then she smiled softly to herself, and buttoned her blouse all the way up. She rather liked having a dirty little secret.

Moving as quietly as possible, she rolled up her stockings and zipped up her skirt. With her shoes in one hand, she headed for the door.

"So you're the type of girl who'll slip out in the morning without saying goodbye."

She froze.

_Damn it._

He was sitting up in bed, his arms crossed over his bare chest, though his expression looked more amused than angry.

"It's not like that," she promised, taking a few steps back to him. She hesitated. "Look, about last night…"

"Nothing happened," he reassured her as he pulled on his shirt.

She raised an eyebrow. "Well," she said, taking another predatory step towards him. "That's not entirely true, is it?"

"All right," he conceded. "Things happened." He smirked. "Not _everything._"

"Well… thanks. For letting me stay," she said with a seductive smile. She picked his glasses up from where they had fallen on the ground. She dusted them off with her shirt, before placing them delicately on his face, letting her fingertips linger. "I… I had fun."

"So much fun that you tried to sneak out the next morning." It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. "Forgive me if I'm not convinced."

"I just wanted to leave before your father woke up. You said he gets up at seven a.m sharp."

He was mildly surprised that she remembered this tidbit of information. "He knows we're dating," he pointed out instead.

"That doesn't mean he'd appreciate my presence at your breakfast table. If my father found out that you spent the night…" She paused, trying to think of a suitable example. "You know how in Spain, they cook the bull testicles after a bullfight?"

"Yeah?"

"You'd be the bull."

He winced. "Fair enough."

She chuckled, tilting her head up to give him another kiss.

He cupped her cheek, running his thumb along the scar. The skin around it was tinged with purple. "You're still not going to tell me what happened?"

Her hand came to rest on top of his. "No." She shook her head resolutely. "It's not your problem."

"Okay. Well, if you need to talk... or if you need a place to stay…" His smile was slow and satisfied as he led her to the door. "You know you're always welcome here."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Oh, I know," she said suggestively instead.

He dipped his head down for another kiss, but she ducked away. "Oh look at the time. It's nearly seven. I've got to run."

He dropped a light kiss on her shoulder, and gave her a little push out the door. "Run swiftly, my Juliet."

She stepped out, quickly glancing left and right, an involuntary smile growing on her face.

Besides the ever-present tension between her and her parents, Minako had long given up on all hope of having some normalcy through in her teenage years. Yet here she was, trying to sneak out of a boy's room in the morning without being discovered by his parents. It was such a strangely precious thought to have; thinking that there was still some hope for her, to enjoy typical, innocent adolescent thrills.

(Though nothing about their transgressions last night was innocent.)

At this thought, she couldn't resist glancing back over her shoulder at him, just for another smile.

He grinned back. "Parting is such a sweet sorrow," he said as loudly as he dared, a hand extended dramatically.

Minako covered her laugh as she bolted down the rest of the stairs, her stockinged footsteps hushed by the carpet.

**~x~**

**Review.**

Follow the tumblr! All the fun stuff happens there.

Here's some upcoming stuff (that may happen in the next chapter or later chapters.)

**~x~**

Atobe snorted. "And you call _me_ dependent."

**~x~**

"You _used_ me."

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

**~x~**


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